Witches Rangers and the 141
by Bucue
Summary: Two worlds and their people's become intertwined. When realities collide and enemy's both man and Neuroi swarm them, what will the soldiers of both realms do? Can a certain Task Force Operator find his heart revived by a certain Karlsland Ace? And what mysteries lie within the Neuroi's ranks? Only resolve and fate can determine the outcome. Rated M for Language, war violence.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was Four months into the Year of 1945.

The Neuroi Hive that had occupied Gallia had been eliminated, thanks to the 501st Joint fighter wing's efforts several months before. Since Gallias Liberation from Neuroi Control, the 501st was momentarily disbanded, but it was reformed again a mere four weeks later to Liberate Romanga.

This was in part of the fact that a new generation of Neuroi had appeared that where stronger than the older hives, and their tactics seemed to evolve as time went on.

Attempts by Human Form Neuroi and other Witches to make diplomatic contact failed because the newer Neuroi would interfere, and destroy their Human formed Comrades. Why one Neuroi would fire on another is still unknown, but finding the answer to this question had to wait. With the fate of Romanga Hanging in the balance, all that mattered was to eliminate the Neuroi from Romangan Airspace.

Yoshika, Lynette and Perrine where in training again, under Sakamotos watchful eye.

Sakamoto had the girls running an obstacle course that she and Minna had requisitioned that the Romangan base personnel have constructed to help in the witches training.

It was a sad run to say the least.

"Owwwiieee! Everything hurts!" Yoshika collapsed at the end of the course, having fallen off of climbing walls, getting stuck on the 15 foot cargo net and landing in the pool of mud on the rope swing obstacle. She lay on her back, exhausted and sore.

Lynette's legs buckled as she tried to catch her breath. "So...tired..."

Lynette felt bad that she did so poorly. "I'm so out of shape..." she lamented.

Perrine certainly felt tired, but what concerned her most was her hair. It was frazzled, and covered in sand and mud from crawling in underground tunnels and under the barbed wire. "My hair! Look at my hair! This will take me hours to get cleaned again!"

Mio sighed and shook her head. "Damn, I thought that these three where out of shape before, but this is ridiculous. Witches should be better than this...I suppose I'll need to train them harder."

The Major then unsheathed her sword and planted it in front of her. "That was pathetic! Even the most out shape men in the army can do better than that! Were you three even trying out there on that course?"

The three girls jumped at the Majors booming voice. "Y-yes mamm!" They replied in unison.

Sakamoto held her sword at her side and brought it down on the ground. "It's not good enough! You gotta try a lot harder than that! A witch needs to train hard to keep her skills sharp! If you're this tired after that work out, then you'll be shot down by your opponent! The enemy isn't going to wait for you to be ready!"

The Major then pointed her sword at the obstacle course. "Miyafuji! Lynette! Perrine! Let's see if you can do better. Run the course again!"

The mouths of the three girls dropped. "What?"

"Major, don't we even get a break?" Yoshika asked pleadingly.

"At least a drink of water Major. Please?" Lynette begged.

"Later. Right now, you're running it again. Up and at em girls! Let's go!"

Lynette and Yoshika, defeated, picked each other up and ran to the start of the course. Perrine followed close behind, at first sadly looking at the state of her hair, but then she turned to the major.

She saw the strength in Sakamotos eyes. Despite the fact that Mio was stern, Perrine knew that the Major was giving them tough love. She saw the potential in each of the girls, and that's why she pushed them so hard. And that's what the Gallian girl liked about Sakamoto.

Perrine blushed momentarily, and then run off to the start of the course. "Just watch me major!" She thought to herself. "I won't let messy hair slow me down!"

Mio noticed the resolve on Perrine's face, and couldn't help but smile_. "As determined as ever I see. Even though I push her so hard, she is so willing to try her best." _Mio chuckled to herself_. "All the girls in the 501st have such great potential"._

But then the smile quickly faded as Mio thought of her own power. She was getting older, and her magic was growing weaker. She couldn't even raise a decent shield anymore. _"Am I truly at my limit? This life as a solider...as a warrior maiden of Fuso...my duty to fight...it's all I know. What will become of me once all my magic power is gone?"_

Immediately, she brushed the thoughts aside. She refused to accept giving up. "_The girls are getting stronger as I train them. I must do the same for myself! I must make myself stronger!"_

She looked down at her sword before finally sheathing it.

"Reppumaru...please make me stronger..."

Nearby Francesca Lucchini was sleeping in a tree. Hearing the shouts of the girls and the Major finally woke her up. She groaned loudly. "Awww maaaannn. I'm so sleepy. I thought it would be quieter here..."

She shrugged and tried to return to her nap. "I just got comfy. I'm staying right here."

She drifted off back to sleep, thinking fondly of her beloved homeland.

Romanga.

...

Jump ahead to the year 2016.

The world burns with the fires of war.

In this time, history is written by the victor. But history is filled with liars.

And all one needs to change the world is one good lie...and a river of blood.

On one side of the world, the US Army Rangers, and in particular the 1st Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment, fight waves of Russian Troops in order protect their country. They don't know why the Russians invaded their home, but theirs is not to wonder why. Thiers is but to do or die.

Even with questions filling their minds, they fight against insurmountable odds.

Three days ago, Sergeant Foley, Corporal Dunn and Private Ramirez fought their way through the chaos in Washington with their fellow Rangers. The end seemed inevitable after the desperate evacuation and their Blackhawk was shot down by Russian SAM sites. Their chopper downed and surrounded by Russian Troops, Armour and Aircraft, it seemed as though that they would die with their boots on the line.

Fate intervened in the form of an Nuclear Missile that detonated over Washington, the resulting EMP knocking out electronics all across the Eastern Seaboard. This is what saved the three Rangers and their squad.

Falling helicopters notwithstanding.

Soon after they fought to take back Whisky Hotel before the city was to be bombed by the US Airforce. A lot of men died taking the White House back, but take it they did. Since then, the Rangers were holding their own. Foley's squad have been running patrols, trying to eliminate enemy troops in the cities both in and around DC.

Ramirez was on point, his M4 Carbine with M203 Grenade Launcher at the ready, wearing his trademark Shades and Shemah that he always wore. Looking down the Holographic sight, he peered around the corner of the building, his fellow Rangers Stacked up behind him.

Dunn creeps up to Ramirez and looks to the left flank, on the lookout for enemy contact. "See anything?" He quietly asks the Private.

A head shaking from side to side is the only reply Dunn gets. He knows that Ramirez doesn't talk much, probably heard him speak once or twice in the time he knew him. Dunn looks back part way down the Stacked up formation of the squad and gives a hand signal to Foley, indicating that there's no visual contact of the enemy.

Foley nods and uses his own hand signal, to move up.

Dunn gives the "A-Ok" sign and taps Ramirez on the shoulder. "Move up man."

Ramirez gives a quick nod and advances from the protection of the buildings wall. His gaze still traveling through the site of his weapon, as he scanned the streets for the enemy. Four other Rangers follow close behind him, With Dunn, Foley and three other men following suite. They proceed for about six blocks, seeing destruction, carnage and death all around them.

The piles of debris, wreckage, and the body's of Russian troops, American G.I.s and Civilians lay around them, with fires burning in the distance. Even with his Shemah wrapped around his face, Ramirez could still pick up the smell of smoke, dust and decaying flesh. He choked on his own vomit, but managed to swallow it down as he pushes himself forward. His thoughts turn to his family, wondering if they we're as worried for him as much as he was for them, if they are still safe. The Private sighs deeply and try's to put the thoughts aside, for the moment. It wasn't the time or place to be thinking of that now. He had to give the patrol his full attention.

Meanwhile, Foley begins playing through the events that have transpired all this time in his head. He began questioning everything. How PFC Allen was pulled from the squad for that Special Op for the CIA. Ever since he heard the news of the resulting op from his superiors, he wanted answers. But while he wondered how Allen got killed, another question gnawed at him in his silence: Who was the mastermind for all of this? Who was the pupetmaster pulling the strings? Was it truly Makarov? Or was he just a Pawn for someone else? If he was a pawn, then who was the one in charge?

But seeing the battle scared landscape, Foley felt his heart sink. His thoughts soon turn to how the PFC's sacrifice was not only in vain, but served as catalyst for the fires of war now blazing across the world. With Russia's soldiers ravaging America. "Damn Joseph, I'm glad you're not around to see this."

He tightened the Grip on His SCAR-H with M203 attached as he marched with his squad. He loaded a 40mm grenade into the M203, figuring that he will eventually need it.

The only thing going through Dunns mind was how much he hated the Russians. Makarov was a Russian. Because of Makarov, Allen, his good friend, is now dead. Because of the Russian Army that invaded, he lost good friends and left his family in tatters. And they attacked his country, his home. Dunn hated the Russians with a vengeance. The only other person he disliked almost as much as the Russians, was General Sheppard, the man that didn't give a crap about his men and sent Allen into a bushwhack. Dunn never really liked the General before, but it only got worse since then.

"God damn."

Dunn Cocked his own SCAR-H and looked down the mounted thermal sight. "Where you at ya Russian Bastards? You want some? Come get some."

...

On the other side of the world, Task Force 141 was gearing up for the upcoming mission. Captain McTavish and Captain Price were inroute the bone yard in Afganistan.

Ghost and Roach were tasked with heading to Makarovs safe house in the Caucasus Mountains on the Georgian/Russian border. They were inroute to the drop zone via transport helicopter. Ghost passed Roach some ammo clips while Toad, Archer, Scarecrow and Ozone did their own gear checks.

Roach took the clips of ammo that were offered to him. "Thanks Ghost."

"Not a problem mate." Both of them gave their Adaptive Combat Rifles the once over and loaded them. They both then loaded and chambered an extra round in their pistols. The other members of the task force did the same with their weapons. They all knew that they were going to be in for the long haul. They need every piece of ammo that they could carry. Just in case.

Ghost turned to Roach, looking over the top of his sunglasses. "You doing alright mate?"

Roach gave a nod and patted his ACR. "I'm all set. How bout you?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. Better hope we find Makarov, or something useful if he aint there."

Roach rested up against the seat he was in, watching as Archer and Toad loaded their Enhanced Battle Rifle's.

The past set of missions he had been a part of were fast-paced and taxing. The mission with Captain McTavish on the Russian base was tense, Hunting down Alejandro Rojas down in Brazil was exhausting and insane, and the missions got more and more high risk as the days went on. He didn't expect that once Price was sprung from the Gulag that he would launch a EMP missile over North America. Before then, he would have an idea at least what would happen and what to do. Now on this mission, he didn't know that to expect. So he decided to expect nothing and everything. Whatever comes his way next, he would take it as it was and deal with it. That way, he figured he wouldn't be caught off guard.

"I suppose we'll find out, wont we?"

Ghost made a final gear check and then turned to Roach after he finished. "I suppose we will."

Ghost had come to know the members of the Taskforce as a second family, even though he often kept a distance. Most of the time he was very quiet, but if he had something important to say, or if it was called for, he'd say something to contribute to his team. Ghost did have his own "skeleton" in the closet however. His past was a troubled one. His father was an abusive drunk, beating him and his mother often. His brother, Tommy, became addicted to drugs because of the messed up home life. His father also had no respect for the uniform either, as he showed contempt in Simon's choice to join the British SAS. And some of the missions he did in the SAS were gruelling. One cost him his family and almost took his sanity. Simon did his best to put his past behind him, though the Favella in Brazil reminded him of the one mission in Mexico. The one Dark place in his life that ran the deepest, responsible for making him what he is now.

The only thing Simon figured that, despite the turbulence in his life, what didn't kill him made him stronger. Then again, you can't kill a ghost, now can you? He was buried alive by the enemy with Major Vernon's rotting corpse. He managed to dig his way out with his former CO's Jawbone after what was literally hours. When his family was killed, including his Brothers son, it nearly pushed the man beyond the brink. With the events influenced by Roba, a drug-running terrorist, Ghost swore he would kill Roba, his lackeys and any others responsible. And in the end, he got justice.

What happened all those years ago is what made him into what he was today: One of the best warriors on the face of the planet.

From across Ghost sits Archer and Toad. Archer looks up from his Sniper's logbook and addresses Ghost. "Hey Ghost, how much longer until our drop? Gotta get it logged in my book here".

"Two hours mate, and counting." reply's Ghost.

Archer quickly writes the time down in his Logbook and then places it in the chest pocket of his combat uniform, underneath his ghillie suite. He and Toad give a quick fist bump, and finally wait patiently for the big kick off.

Ghost and Roach both exchanged glances before they gave their own Bro fist.

"Stay frosty mate."

"You too Ghost."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"So Minna, what's the situation from the front?"

Minna looked up from the war room's map for a brief moment, meeting Barkhorn's eyes to answer.

"Not well I'm afraid." she replied, sighing audibly. "A lot of the forces still fighting on the African Front have been facing heavy resistance, mostly by Heavy Air type Neuroi and large waves of Small and Medium types, mostly those land based type "Turtles" and squadrons of "Flying Goblets." She pointed towards a particular location on the map. "Airspace over the Mediterranean sea is being used by the enemy to Sortie against allied territory north of the African Continent. That also includes Romangna."

"Damn" Barkhorn clutched her fists at her sides, with frustration building inside her. "What the hell are those idiots in Africa doing? How could their lines be smashed through so easily?"

"Unfortunately, a lot of witches have to be taken out of rotation, either due to injury, fatigue or because their Strikers were damaged."

"And what about the regular military forces? Can't they do anything?"

"Not much I'm afraid, Trude. Without witches for support, the regular forces have taken severe casualties. Many men have been killed in action trying to hold the line."

Across the room, her back resting on the wall with her arms crossed, Shirley listened to the exchange between Minna and Gertrude. "Well, if any of the Neuroi come our way, we can take care of them, right?"

Barkhorn turned to the laidback Liberion, shooting an icy glare. "You Liberions are too laidback for your own good! The Neuroi shouldn't even be getting anywhere in Europe, and they are breaking through our lines like tissue paper!"

Shirly shrugged in response. "The good old Karlsland uptight attitude. Not like we can do anything about it, other than just deal with it when it comes. You need to take it easy once in a while ya know. "

Barkhorn can only roll her eyes in frustration from Yeager's response. "That's typical of you..."

Minna tapped at the Map again, trying to keep the focus of the two Captain's. "Hey you two, we have more important things to worry about. Intelligence from HQ tells us that we should expect enemy contact soon, so we should have the base put on standby for when that happens."

Yeager and Barkhorn both nodded silently. They expected that Minna would dismiss them, but there was a long silence, with Minna's gaze shifting from sector to sector in a particular area of the map.

"Wing Commander, is there something else?" Barkhorn Inquired.

"Yeah Minna, what's wrong?" Shirly asked.

Minna paused for a moment. She then took a deep breath: "There have been some Scouting reports of highly irregular activity in the Neuroi's attack patterns and actions. Aside from what many in the intelligence community believe is a schism in the enemies ranks, some of the Neuroi's actions seem to indicate they are looking for something. It's not known for certain what it is or for what purpose, but what is known is that many of the new Neuroi hives seem to be surrounding areas where a large amount of magical energy can be found. The, for lack of a better word, "First Wave" Neuroi that we had to deal with at the start of the war, some of the hives that we have been dealing with are slowly trying to make peaceful contact, but these "Second Wave" Neuroi appear to interfere with that. But regardless of the problems the enemy's facing within its own ranks, they are all being drawn to where the largest amount of magical energy is located."

The two Captains remained silent.

Minna continued: "While these locations are natural phenomena, they seem to be getting stronger. HQ isn't really sure as to the reason yet, but many of our forces have begun setting up blockades of whatever locations haven't fallen into enemy hands yet. In addition to our regular objectives and standing orders, we are also charged with defending one of these locations. It's in Romangnan territory. Here."

Minna pointed the location out on the map, within the borders showing Romangna, quite a distance away from the base.

Charlotte made a low whistle. "Man, that's quite far out from the base."

"235 miles out, that's quite a distance... it might prove difficult to defend." Gertrude agreed.

"Perhaps, but we must try our best to defend this sector." Minna stated.

Gertrude held her chin, deep in thought. "Is it possible for us to receive reinforcement, or at least some sort of backup?"

"There are a few reserve bases nearby, as well as a reserve witches base 50 miles from ours, but they are only to be activated in the direst of circumstances. Like a full scale enemy assault. Unless that occurs, and that is doubt full, then it lies on us to carry out our objectives."

As soon as Minna finished speaking, a radio in a corner of the war room began to transmit, grabbing the attention of the three girls. Minna hustled over to the radio to receive the message. Gertrude and Shirley couldn't figure out what the garbled voice on the other end was saying, but they can tell from their commander's stern, concerned face that it was bad news.

"Roger. Out." Minna's head snapped to her subordinates, placing the receiver of the radio back on its table. "Reconnaissance report. A wing of Neuroi aircraft are approaching the airspace of the sector we're charged with defending. We've just been tasked with an intercept mission. Get the girls ready."

...

Yoshika, Lynette and Perrine we're all finally at rest, their runs on the course now finished. The girls sat down in front of the hanger where the striker units we're stored, catching their breath. Mio stood with her arms crossed; glad to see some improvement in the girls this time around.

"Well, that was considerably better than last time ladies. I'm proud of you. You three can relax for a little while."

"H-hey Yoshika, are you tired too?" Lynette asked, still trying to catch her breath.

"Yeah...but I'm glad we are starting to get better at this."

Secretly, Perrine felt the same as Yoshika and Lynette, but of course she wouldn't let them know it. Putting on a smug facade, she merely scoffed at the other two girls. "Hrmph. I don't see how you both can't handle any of this training. I had no trouble at all."

"You're not tired at all Perrine?" Yoshika asked, somewhat confused.

"Hardly"

"Wow, you must have lots of energy to spare to not feel tired at all!" Yoshika replied with a smile.

"I guess it's true. You're so impressive Perrine!" Lynette chimed in.

Perrine started to feel a little embarrassed from her rivals kind words. She soon started to feel a bit bad about gloating in front of them. "W-well...a Gallian's endurance is second to none. But...you both have been getting better, I suppose."

"Thank you, Perrine." Yoshika and Lynette replied in unison.

Lucchini slept nearby, still napping in the same tree, dreaming of Romagna and Charlotte's well endowed chest.

However she stirred at the sound of someone shouting. Her eyes opened sleepily, spotting Gertrude and Charlotte and a half asleep Erica running past.

"Hmm? Shirly? What's going on?" She called to Charlotte, confused.

"Up and at em Lucchini! It's time to fly!"

Immediately, the younger girl snapped fully awake, leaping off the branch of the tree and following the three older witches.

Yoshika, Mio, Lynette and Perrine soon noticed the four girls running in their direction.

"Hey girls, what's going on?" Mio asked.

"Intercept mission. Recon picked up an enemy wing entering airspace of a key location. No time for a full briefing, it's urgent" Gertrude replied.

Immediately, Mio's face turned hard. "Then we mustn't dally. We better move out, now!"

...

Ramirez froze upon hearing something in the distance. The clattering of metal hitting the ground, some thirty meters from his position. His head quickly scanned the area, trying to figure out the exact location of the source.

One ranger turned back towards another. "You hear that?"

"Yeah."

"What the hell was that?"

"The fuck should I know dude!"

"I sure hope it ain't Russians again man, they're a real pain in the ass."

Foley crawled up to the front of the squad, hushing the two Rangers as he passed them, with Dunn following close behind.

"Private...what have you got?"

Ramirez silently gestures in the general direction of the sound: A blind alleyway.

Foley's face shows concern. It's a tight place for an ambush, and he knows it. Any men he would send in to clear it might not be coming back out. Still, if the enemy is hiding down there, he can't just ignore them either. Foley hadn't gotten where he was today by dismissing the possibility of a potential threat. "Alright. Ramirez, take Lymen and Zander with you, see what we're dealing with. The rest of us will cover you."

The private gives a nervous, silent nod. Ramirez was a reserve ranger, and was still a bit green, still new to battles and learning the art of warfare, but somehow everything he remembered from back in basic seemed to click with him. His training, coupled with his instinct, managed to keep him alive this far...and maybe a little luck. Or fate? He was still worried about getting his ass shot off, but he had learned a few traits a good ranger should have. Wither being the strong silent type worked for him or against him remained to be seen, or at least it's what he figured. Still, he prayed he wouldn't catch a bullet any time soon.

Two Rangers formed up behind the young private and the three of them soon advanced, with Foley, Dunn and the rest of the squad keeping them covered.

The three Rangers dashed across the street and made their way to the alley. Hugging the wall the three of them paused. Lymen and Zander watched Ramirez intently, waiting for the Private to quick scan the way ahead. At this point, a dozen scenarios entered the Privates mind. Was there a whole platoon waiting for them? Perhaps a larger force. Or was it a BTR, laying in wait to crush the unsuspecting Rangers. When the moment he turned into the alley, would he be met with gunfire or a grenade? The Private exhaled deeply, trying to put these thoughts of doom and death out of his mind, but failing to do so.

"Hey, you alright?" Lymen asked, readying his M16.

Ramirez was snapped back to reality. Turning to the Ranger, he gave a quick nod of his head and quietly grunted.

"Well have a look then!" Zanader put in impatiently.

Ramirez sighed, and finally found enough courage to poke his head out around the corner, M4 at the ready.

The ally was dark. Pitch black. Garbage was strewn about and the walls of the buildings seemed dirty. A few doors were open, so they would need to be cleared too, once the alley itself was cleared. And James Ramirez knew that he would need to step into the darkness to do so. The private slowly advanced. Lymen crossed to the other side of the alleys mouth, while Zander moved forward to Lymens former position, the two men covering the private on either side of the alley.

Ramirez soon came upon a dumpster and some garbage cans, a few of which were knocked over, their smelly, rotting contents littering the ground. He approached cautiously. The sound of rustling garbage grabs his attention. He stops as he sees something emerge from an overturned garbage can.

Lymen manages to identify the unknown contact. "A cat?"

The small animal stops and looks up at Ramirez, mewling quietly. Ramirez chuckles silently to himself, kneeling down to scratch the cat's chin. The cat purrs contently, nuzzling the Private's hand.

Zander lowers his M240 with an annoyed look on his face. "All that over a fucking cat? Great."

Lymen turns to Foley and the rest of the squad, giving the hand signal for "All Clear".

Foley motions to the men in his squad to move forward. The men of the 75th Ranger regiment stack up along the side of the building, some of the men are relieved that trouble hasn't sprung up yet, others are disappointed to not have any hostiles to shoot, Dunn being the most disappointed of them all.

"Was hoping to give some of those Russians a piece of my mind. Can't believe we got worked up over Felix here."

Foley gives Dunn a pat on the back. "It's alright Corporal, there's plenty of Russians out here, you're bound to find a few to shoot."

"Yeah, yeah Sarge. Don't remind me...so what now?"

Foley is about to reply, but a large, thunderous boom prevents him from doing so. All the Rangers duck their heads from the sound. Ramirez filches, and the cat meows loudly and runs out of the ally.

A surprised Ranger looks around the surrounding area, looking for the source of the explosion "What the fucking hell was that?"

Corporal Dunn turns to the ranger in question, cocking his SCAR-H in anticipation of trouble, "Sounds like a cannon going off!"

The Sergeant stands fully erect, and cranes his head sky ward, listening intently. The sound thunders again, followed by distant gunfire, most of which is Russian weapons fire, but the return fire sounds different. "120mm Cannon, coupled with an M2 Fifty Cal. Russian small arms. That sounds like an M1 Abrums that's just been ambushed. Doesn't sound like it's too far off." Foley turns to his men. "I say we give them back up, what you all think?"

"Hooah!" comes the response from the men.

"Then what are we waiting here for? We're Oscar-Mike, let's go!"

With that, Ramirez is back on point, entering the door of a building as a short cut, clearing it room by room before moving on to the next, with his fellow Rangers close behind him. _Ranger's lead the way _Ramirez thought quietly.

...

Roach pressed his back up against the side of the house, sweating profusely from underneath his Balaclava and panting heavily to catch his breath. Just moments before, the 141 began to advance on Makarov's safe house. Unfortunately, they didn't account for the ambush laying in wait for them, with bounding mines included that took the lives of four men already. Archer and Toad were providing over watch from a ridge, sniping targets that proved too much for the survivors moving in to breach the safe house. The Caucasus Mountains were filled with the sounds of gunfire and explosions.

"Damn! This is too fucking chaotic!"

Walking into bounding mines and being fired at with RPG's, Mortars and Sniper fire; this mission has entirely gone to the dogs and technically it barley even began. A pair of escaping bullet proof vehicles have been taken out thanks be to a pair of well placed Javelin missiles "Danger Close" courtesy of Archer and Toad, up on the ridge, where they continued with snipping tangos. Though there hasn't been any sign of Makarov yet...

Ghost stood next to Roach, reloading this ACR with a fresh Mag after downing several tangos that had exited a pair of jeeps. They had burned trough a lot of ammunition already. But despite this, the Lieutenant's voice was clam and professional. "Too right mate...just keep it frosty." Ghost then radioed the other team members of the 141. "This is team one in position, preparing to breach."

Ghost get's a reply on the Radio, from Scarecrow. "Team two here. Ready to Breach and Clear the Basement. Ozone, get ready to breach on my signal."

"Roger."

Ghost taps Roaches shoulder and motions to his team member's pack.  
>Roach quickly grabs the shaped charge from his kit and waits for Ghost to give the signal, ready to place it on the front door of the house, his already growing adrenalin rush beginning to hit its peak. Ghost then nods and gives a firm tap on Roaches shoulder.<p>

"Breach and clear. Go."

Upon Ghost's command, Roach plants the shaped breaching charge upon the door, and rolls back to the side of the doorframe. The breaching charge detonates, the blast blowing the door to bits, with shrapnel being blown into the house and peppering the men within.

Just after the blast, Roach rolls back into the now empty door frame. One tango is making his way down the stairs in front of him, AK-47 in one hand, the other hand shielding himself from the debris of the destroyed door. Roach squeezes the trigger immediately. Spurts of blood appear from the man's uniform. Without any life to carry the now mortally wounded man, his legs fail, the lifeless body now tumbles down the last few flights of stairs.

One down.

Roach's eyes dart to the right of the Office. Three more tangos stand by a table littered with documents and possibly maps. At another, smaller table is a computer. Each man is reaching for his weapon.

_AK-47, RPD, DAO-12._ The Sergeant noted quietly.

Roach quickly depressed the trigger again, rounds striking the three men. The enemy's weapons discharging uselessly into the floor, wall and ceiling.

"Clear!"

Roach advanced into the house and into the living room, with Ghost following close behind. Another explosion can be heard from outside.

_Scarecrow and Ozone most likely. _Roach figured.

Small arms fire interrupts his thoughts. Instinctively, Roach leaps behind a nearby couch. _Shit. Submachine gun. _Roach thought. He peeks up from his cover. A door way he hadn't noticed. A man with a P90 fires wildly in Roaches direction, trying to unload a full clip into the Sergeant. Roach notices Ghost concealed around the corner of this nearby door by the entrance of the house. For a moment, there is a silent, exchanged plan of attack between the two men. Roach takes a flash bang off of his combat vest and pulls the pin. Ghost, readies his ACR silently. Roach tosses the flash bang into the room the man with the submachine gun was in, clattering upon the wooden floor before detonating. Now with the hostile now blinded and deafened, Ghost moved with the speed of lightning around the corner, firing a short burst into the helpless enemy.

"Clear."

Roach suddenly hears movement coming from behind Ghost, from the kitchen. The Sergeant fires through the wall across from him and into the adjacent dining room, hoping to stop any impending threat to his CO. A lifeless Ultranationalist body slumps forward into the doorway, bullet wounds along the left side of his body.

Roach uneasily chuckles. "Clear."

Ghost admires his team mate's handy work for a moment before going over and helping him up from behind the couch. "Nice one Roach."

"Heh, yeah, pretty ninja, don't ya think?"

Ghost shrugs casually, "Mostly luck, but I'm not complaining."

_Yeah, cold as ice like always._ Roach thought.

Gunfire from the basement can be heard momentarily, before Roach and Ghost get a reply from team two.

"Ozone here. We're in downstairs and cleared the hallways, preparing to breach and clear secondary rooms."

Ghost responds. "Roger. Roach and I will take the uppermost rooms on the top floor."

"Copy that."

Ghost and Roach then proceed up the stairs, clearing a foyer with a computer desk and documents, until finally clearing the rooms on the upper floor. There was a close call with an Ultra Nationalist that was hiding in his sleeping bag, but overall, they cleared the other rooms without a problem, killing any tangos hiding within, with Scarecrow and Ozone doing the same in the basement of the house.

"All clear. Squad, regroup on me." Ghost makes his way back to the living room, with Roach, Scarecrow and Ozone joining the Lieutenant to receive new orders. Ghost points to Scarecrow as he walks through the door from the kitchen. "Scarecrow, photographs."

The man nods "Roger that." He pulls out a digital camera and begins taking snap shots of documents, maps, newspaper clippings and the weapons caches scattered about the house.

_Hmmm... a lot of men, a truck load of weapons and enough documents to fill an Olympic swimming pool, but Makarov ain't anywhere to be found...but no doubt more of his men are going to arrive for the party. Hope the other team is having better luck... _ Ghost begins a broad cast on his wide band radio.

"Shepherd, this is Ghost. No sign of Makarov, I repeat, no sign of Makarov. Captain Price, any luck in Afghanistan?"

Price's gruff, hardened voice reply's over the radio. "Plenty... at least fifty hired guns here, but no sign of Makarov. Perhaps our Intel was off?"

Ghost pauses a moment, an odd feeling seems to be prodding him and he can't seem to shake it. _Can't be that off, could it? Where the hell else would Makarov be if he isn't here or Afghanistan? He couldn't have other safe houses elsewhere, could he? None of this is adding up...maybe there's a clue in this safe house?_

"Well the quality of the Intel is about to change. This safe house is a bloody gold mine".

Another voice comes on the radio channel: Shepherd's.

"Copy that. Ghost, have your team collect everything you can for an operations playbook. Names, places, contacts, everything."

"We're already on it sir. Makarov will have no place to run."

"That's the idea. I'm bringing up the extraction force, E.T.A. five minutes. Get that Intel. Shepherd out."

Ghost could hear the General's emphasis upon mentioning the Intel. He understood why it was important. Information on bringing down a monster that slaughtered thousands and sparked a global war? Of course that Intel was vital at bringing the Russian man down.

But something in Shepherd's voice...something that made him cringe. Made him cringe the same way that his father made him. His father was an evil bastard, Ghost always believed that. His old man was responsible for making as Ghost himself put it: "A high functioning wreck." Why did Shepherds voice make him feel the same way? Something about the General always seemed a bit..."off"...but now it seemed to be getting more so then normal. He tried to shove aside this thought. _The mission. Focus on the mission. _Ghost ordered himself. _The mission is what matters right now._

He turned to Roach and Ozone, the Sergeant cocking his head to one side, and Ozone rubbing his chin, the two men curious over their CO's silence, and obviously troubled mannerisms. "Hey Ghost, are you okay?" Roach asked.

"Cat got your tongue Lieutenant?" Ozone inquired.

Ghost ignored the men's questions and gave them both their tasks. "Roach get on Makarov's computer and start the transfer. Ozone you're on rear security, I've got the front. Go."

Ozone seemed about to prod a little, but stopped. He sighed and got his weapon ready and began making his way to the rear of the house. "On my way."

Roach began to make his way the computer and started to set up the DSM for the file transfer. Ghost made his way to the front door that Roach's breaching charge had blasted open, ready to kill anything that would try to enter from the front door. Ghost saw a nearby AK-47 with a grenade launcher and picked it up, slinging it on his back to use for later. Turning back to his Sergeant, Ghost can see Roach struggling with the DSM, trying to get it linked with the computer.

A tone of impatience creeps into Ghost's voice. "Roach, connect the DSM to Makarov's computer. We're not leaving without this intel."

"Hang on I've about got this Ghost..." After another minute, Roach finally completes the link. "There...Christ, I was never good at tech support." Roach was very good at cracking, hacking and software applications, but funnily enough, handling computer hardware was one of his poorer skills. That and he only got a brief crash course on handling and setting up DMS's.

Captain Prices voice sounded over the radio again. "Task Force, this is Price. More of Makarov's men arrived at the bone yard...Soap, cover me. I'm gonna slot that guy over there and tap into their comms." There was a pause before Price continued. "Ghost, we're going silent for a few minutes. Good luck up there in Russia. Price out."

After that there was no further exchange. Ghost was mildly surprised when Price, the man that Soap had idolized and respected, launched a missile at America. He found it unsettling that he would to go to such lengths to end the war. Then again, Ghost also understood the reason's as to why Price would think and act the way he was. He went through his own version of it...long time ago...saying Simons mind was rather unhealthy back then would be a serious understatement. Even today, even though it wasn't as bad as it used to be...Ghost still had a frightening mind set.

Roach had the unfortunate opportunity to see some of Ghost's handy work. The things Ghost did to extract information from Rojas and his right hand man with the jumper cables shaken Roach to the bone and even disturbed Soap MacTavish. Roach didn't know how Ghost could be as cold and terrifying as he was, and could only guess as to what could have made his CO they way he is now, but whatever he thought of, probably wouldn't even come close to what really happened to the man with the skull face and sunglasses.

Once Roach finally set up the DSM, he heard Ozone's voice on the radio. "Roach, there's an armoury in the basement. Better stock up what you can."

"Sounds good. My ACR's dry anyways. Anything you'd recommend?"

"How about something with a larger calibre and ammo capacity?"

Roach laughed quietly. "Go Rambo then, eh? Sounds good to me." He set aside his ACR and made his way to the armoury down stairs. He and Ozone looked through the large assortment of firearms before selecting new replacements for their empty weapons as well as grabbing some claymores to set up around the parameter. Roach settled for an M240B Machinegun and Ozone selected a Scoped AUG.

After selecting his weapon and getting enough ammo, Roach then heard Ghost's voice on the radio, his voice sounding grim. "Makarov's men are going to do whatever it takes to keep us from leaving with this Intel. We need to protect the DSM until the transfers done. Use the weapons caches and set up your claymores if you've got any left. Defensive positions, let's go".

Ozone passes Roach a couple claymores before grabbing a handful for himself. "Here, You set these up high, I'll set these down low. We hide these well and the baddies won't see the surprise coming"

"Hell yeah, thanks man."

Both men hear footsteps and turn to see Scarecrow enter the door way, camera in hand and weapon slung over his shoulder. "Haven't forgotten about me now? Have you?"

Ozone smiles broadly. "Not at all, Santa's got your gift right here. And you can take your pick of a gift to boot." He waves his arm across the wall, like a sales men showing off some new power tools.

Scarcrow chuckles and pats his M4 Carbine," I'm good with this, but I'll take some ammo and claymores if you've got any."

Roach points at the Camera in Scarecrows hand. "Find anything good?'

Scarecrow sighs, raising the camera and shaking it lightly. "Quite a lot. Even got a photo of a newspaper clipping highlighting the Airport massacre, as well as the operation plans."

The atmosphere suddenly became heavy at the mention of the massacre.

"Oh." Is all that Roach can manage to say.

Ozones cheery disposition evaporates, replaced with cynicism coupled with frustration "So old news huh? Why the hell would Makarov even want the newspaper clipping of that fucking massacre?"

Scarecrow sighs heavily and shrugs. "I dunno. Maybe a trophy of his achievement or some shit."

Ozone quickly becomes hot under the collar. "Like the guy needs a fucking trophy! Isn't the money he gets for the blood of all those innocents enough? An airport full of civvies', what the hell is the point in doing that anyway?"

"That's what we're here to find out man. And we're going bring down that rotten bastard. Make him pay." Scarecrow try's getting Ozone calmed down, so he can keep his focus. It works, a little.

"Yeah. Make him pay. With a Five Five Six in his head. Right?"

"Right. Make him pay in blood, man. For everything he's done"

The two men shook hands and nodded silently in agreement of their goal. Get the Intel and bring the bad guy down.

Roach cocks his new weapon, and then addresses his comrades, extending his hand to Scarecrow. "Well, I'm headed back upstairs; you two stay frosty, alright?"

"You too Roach, put Makarovs men six feet under. I've got your back." Scarecrow shook Roaches hand.

"Good luck man." Ozone say's.

After wishing each other luck, Roach heads back upstairs and takes up his defensive position, noticing Ghost quietly guarding the front door. He hears Ozone's voice over the radio again.

"Ready to engage"

Ghost radios back. "You set some of those claymores?"

"Yeah, I set a few. Hid them real good too."

"Good. Stay sharp, trouble could be coming at any min-"

An explosion rings out in the distance, cutting off Ghost from his sentence. Ghost knows that it's the approaching storm ready to tear into the 141.

Scarecrows voice chimes over the radio, his voice filled with concern "What the hell was that?"

Quite suddenly, the four men hear Archer on their comms, one of the silent snipers now speaking with anticipation of the coming danger. "Be advised, you have a large concentration of hostiles moving in from the southeast, they've just breached the perimeter! I'll try to thin 'em out before they get too close. Recommend you switch to scoped weapons, over. "

Ghost shouts into his mike "Roger that! Everyone cover the field to the southeast! Move!"

Scanning from the basement door, Ozone begins to notice silhouettes moving in the distance "I got eyes on! Here they come! They're in the field to the southeast!"

Archer had quickly displaced from one side of the ridge to a new location, while Toad held at his position, ready to drop as many enemy's as they could from their vantage point. Once Archer had settled in between a tree and a large rock, he readied his EBR and began to acquire his first target. Unfortunately, his target cut into a barn for cover, forcing him to choose a new target. Still, he made sure to let the men in the house know what was coming their way.

"RPG team moving in from the southwest!"

Scarecrow took position in the Northeast basement exit, setting his final claymore "I'm in position!"

Ozone did another quick scan of the field and noticed the RPG team in the farm building, the Scope of the AUG aiding the Canadian man's sight of the high priority target.

"Got it! RPG team moving in from the southwest!"

Ghost let out a cold chuckle; it was audible throughout the com channel, sending an involuntary shiver through his men. Ghost could have been a nice enough guy at times, if a bit on the quite side most of the time. But even the men of the 141 sensed that their Lieutenant had his head in one too many mindfucks then he would have liked. Even they could feel something dark that had left a mark on Ghost, scarring his mind. Ghost knew this himself, and knew what it was...but he mostly kept it to himself. Ghost could hear the shouts of Ultranationalists approaching the estate that the Task Force had dug into. _Yeah ya wankers...charge us if you want...only death is going to await you._

Ghost cocked his Adaptive Combat Rifle, standing in the blown doorframe and sighting his first target.

"Alright mates, weapons free. Let em have it!"

And with that, the weapons of the 141 clapped in chorus.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The girls we're 15 miles away from their objective, carrying their weapons fully loaded, while on the wing with their Strikers. Shirly and Barkhorn filled Mio in as to their mission and new objective while enroute, all the while, the Major was listening intently of what's been happening from her subordinates.

"Hmm...high readings of magic huh? That's a pretty rare occurrence. Never thought I'd see something like this for myself..."

Barkhorn blinked. "Major, are you saying you're familiar with something like this?"

Mio began recalling stories she had heard when she was younger, and started to explain to the two Captains. "Well, I've heard stories about such phenomena back home in Fuso, about how particular areas would become unusually strong in magical energy. They say that it usually occurs before some huge event, something terrible or earth shattering. Not sure if that or any part of it is true...but from what you're describing it sounds...similar."

Shirly made an audible sigh. "That so huh?" she asked, sounding somewhat unconvinced. "Too bad Minna, Elia and Sanya couldn't sortie with us. Not sure if it's true, but on the off chance it is we could sure use more help."

"Well, we can't commit all our girls for the fight; we need someone to watch over the base. Besides, Sanya's always on night patrol, she needs to replenish her energy as much as she can."

"Huh. That's true, I guess. Oh well."

Following from behind Mio, Shirly and Barkhorn, the rest of the girls are still unsure as to what's happening. Yoshika, Lynette, Perrine and Lucchini tried asking Flying Officer Hartmann if she knew anything, but she admits that she was loafing around in her room at the time, and knew as much as the other girls did.

"Sorry, I wasn't really briefed on what's been going on recently. All I was told was to get up and get my strikers on."

Lucchini frowns at Hartmann's response, annoyed. "Hrumph. I was sleeping comfortably too! If we are going to be flying around, I'd like to know what the heck's going on and why."

Yoshika nods in agreement of the younger girl."Yeah, me too! I wish that the older girls would tell us what is happening. Why keep us in the dark?"

Perrine scoffs. "You girls obviously don't listen very well. I heard the Major and Captains mention something about intercepting some Neuroi entering the airspace of an important location."

Lynette shyly withdraws into herself. "Sounds very serious. Ohhh...I'm so nervous..."

Yoshika reaches out and holds Lynette's hand, smiling warmly to build her friends confidence. Yoshika cared a lot for Lynette, probably more than Yoshika was willing to admit...

"It's okay Lynne. As long as we support each other, there's nothing that we can't do."

The Britannian girl blushes at this kind gesture. Yoshika was always a kind hearted person, always supporting others. Lynette admired Yoshika very much. They had become fast friends the year before, and since then their friendship had become strong, the both of them supporting each other when they sortie together.

The key location was now insight. The tip of Romagna's boot, meeting the Mediterranean Sea and the many islands that dotted its waters, was now in view for the young witches to see. The girls are in awe at the picturesque landscape that seemed to be like a painting. Mio's smile, however, disappears when she notices several dotted shapes in the sky at 12 O'clock.

"Up Ahead!"

The girls of the 501st suddenly tense up once Mio's voice rises, bringing the girls full attention on her. She lifts up her eye patch, to get a better look with her magically enhanced eye. Mio can see the enemy in the distance, just within the airspace they are tasked with defending. _Damn. Multiple heavy Bomber types, medium air types and flying Goblets. We're going to have our work cut out on this one._

The Major looked back to her girls and pointed to the enemy's left and right flank. "Barkhorn take Hartmann along the enemy's left flank. Shirley and Lucchini take the right. Miyafuji and Lynette you two hang back and provide cover fire while Perrine and I punch through the middle!"

"Roger!" Came the girls reply.

Perrine's heart skipped a beat when she heard that the Major wanted her to be her wingman. She wanted to make Sakamoto proud.

The girls broke formation and began the attack. They were greeted by the lasers of the advancing Neuroi. The Medium sized Neuroi started to drift a bit from the larger, heavy bomber type Neuroi, giving the larger ones space, preparing to intercept the witches. The Flying Goblets broke formation and begun darting around the sky, firing lasers in every direction facing the witches. A few of the Neuroi knew what they we're doing, playing tricky for the young witches in the dogfight.

Barkhorn and Hartmann fired into several medium types, killing a few and hitting the rest, Barkhorn going into the thick of the enemy wing to make her kills. Shirley and Lucchini tag teamed the Flying Goblets that were in range, destroying several of the smaller Neuroi. Perrine kept close to Mio, while the major used the speed of her striker to avoid the Neuroi's beams, firing her type 99 cannon at the nearest Heavy bomber type and then following up with a slash from her sword, bisecting and killing the Neuroi, and most importantly, its core, then quickly moving on to the next, with Perrine flanking and distracting the enemy for Mio to strike. Yoshika with her Type 99 and Lynette with her Boy's Mark 1 fired at several of the larger targets from far behind the other witches, attacking the medium and heavy bomber Neuroi that were furthest from the others, keeping them back. After two minutes of this the Neuroi's squadron had begun to dwindle in number within a short time.

At that point, the Nueroi wing drastically changed its tactics. The interceptors and Flying Goblets mixed into clumped formations, using hit and run tactics on the witches, with the remaining heavy bomber types separating from each other and reinforcing the smaller wings. All but the exception of one, which began cruising lower and lower in altitude, and seemingly carrying something.

Perrine found herself and Sakamoto on the defensive.

"M-major Sakamoto!"

"I know Perrine! The Neuroi have changed tactics!"

"Major! We have a bogy headed for lower altitude! It's a Heavy Bomber type!" Barkhorn pointed out while firing her MG42's at a Medium type Neuroi, blasting large chunks off of the creatures honeycomb hide, all the while Erica was struggling to keep some flying goblets off the Captains six.

"Lynne and I will stop it!" Yoshika offered.

Mio thought about it for a moment before she came to a decision. "Very well, but use caution. We don't know what it's up too."

"Roger!" Came the reply from the two girls, who then barrel rolled downwards, after the Heavy type Neuroi carrying its mysterious cargo.

Upon getting near, the lone Heavy type roared threateningly and fired its lasers at the two girls, who promptly returned fire, hitting the Neuroi but failing to strike its hidden weak point. They both hoped that they would score a lucky hit, but unfortunately, they weren't that lucky. The Neuroi groaned under the return fire.

The other Neuroi seemed to notice their alleys predicament and roared menacingly themselves. The nearest mishmash wing of Medium type interceptors and Flying Goblets descended upon Yoshika and Lynette, firing their lasers with greater ferocity and approaching both in force and speed. The two girls shields managed to take the heavy laser fire, but the large volume of fire winded the girls.

"S-so many. Why are they coming at us like that?" Lynette asked her friend.

"I don't know." Yoshika panted. "Maybe this Neuroi is important?"

"I don't know how...it looks like any other Neuroi of its type."

"But look its carrying something under its wings! See?"

Lynette looked closer and saw that Yoshika was right. Something was mounted underneath the wings of the Heavy type Neuroi.

"Your right! I can see...but what is it carrying?"

The answer came when the Heavy Bomber type dropped its mysterious cargo. Now free falling to the earth, Yoshika and Lynne could see clearly what it was carrying.

Two large walker type Neuroi, both of unusual and unfamiliar design, landed heavily on the ground, craters forming upon their impact. The two walker Neuroi slowly picked themselves out of their craters and began to make a slow, steady advance along the ground, seemingly into the direction of a large field. The two girls have heard of the "Turtle" Neuroi, a type of tank form Neuroi that was quite common on the African front and was spotted on occasion in Karlsland, even if they haven't really seen one in person, they have seen photos: A box shaped four legged, quick moving Neuroi with a cannon facing forward and menacing red orb that many in the military assume is a type of eye or device of some sort. These two new Walker types looked nothing like the familiar "Turtles".

"M-major! Sakamoto! The Heavy Neuroi has dropped two walker type Neuroi!" Yoshika reported.

"Turtles?" Asked Mio, concerned that they now had to deal with ground units.

"No mamm." Replied Lynette. "We don't know what they are."

_Not good. Turtles aren't very good at attacking targets in the air and can be dealt with somewhat easily, but if these aren't Turtles then what could they be? What are they capable of?_ "Take them out if you can. The rest of us will need to thin the enemy's ranks before we can try and help you! And be careful!"

"Okay! We'll do our best!" The young Fuso witch's reply was a bit shaky, but determined regardless. A Nueroi laser whizzing past her and Lynette made both girls yelp and roll away. The clumped Neuroi squadron began to pursue the two girls, with the heavy bomber type continuing to attack from a fair distance with wave after wave of deadly reddish/pink beams of light. Their shields protected them, but they started to become more and more fatigued as their shields took hits and began draining their magic.

The other girls of the 501st were holding their own, but even then they started to feel short of breath from the fighting, which has been raging for over seven minutes. The Neuroi fighter wing had suffered many causalities at the hands of the young girls, with three heavy bomber type Neuroi, five Medium Interceptors and a dozen Flying Goblets in full retreat. But the rest continued fighting. They swarmed and bombarded the girls relentlessly with laser fire.

And every time Lynette and Yoshika got close to the mysterious ground type Neuroi, they're nearby airborne allies quickly incepted and attacked them, keeping the Britannian and Fuso witches at a distance. The low-flying heavy bomber type would then smash further attacks into the shields of the two young witches.

"They keep protecting those two walker types!" Lynette shouted.

Yoshika fired a burst from her Type99, destroying two flying goblets, then paused to stare at the two Neuroi Walkers marching in unison to their location. _What could they be doing? Why are these two so important?_

_..  
><em>

The Rangers snaked through the buildings, alleyways and city streets. Moving silently, the men of Hunter 2-1 kept their vigilance, scanning the rooms they entered, the open streets they crossed and the roof tops above them. The images of death and destruction only seemed to grow thicker as they approached the thunderous booms of the ambushed M1 Tank. With the squads "Do Everything" Private on point, they soon advanced their way into another ally. At the end was the next street. They would soon be a block away from their rally point. Ready and willing to help one of their own in dire need.

Ramirez suddenly hears the sound of a large vehicle approaching. He halts immediately, and upon doing so, so does the squad. He can't be sure wither its one of their own armour or the Russians. Some of the squad try and look over the privates shoulder to get a better look, but are unable to see anything either, though they can hear it approaching.

The nearby shouts of men speaking in a foreign language tense up the squad.

Dunn exhales deeply. "Russians." His voice is harsh, but he then chuckles to himself. His chance at exacting revenge for family and country is about to be satisfied, soon.

Foley rubs the back of his neck, trying to think of a battle plan. _Hrmn...damnit...Ivan must be trying to flank our boys...come-on Sean, what can we do here? _He notices the open doorways of both buildings forming the ally. He could use the houses as concealment, cover and a base of fire. He could probably use them to Ambush this Russian squad and its armour support, and then continue to the M1 Tank after they neutralize the obstacle._ Alright, that could work._

"Everyone into the buildings, half left, other half right then take up position." He hissed. He looked back to a corporal behind him, wielding an M4 with an AT-4 Rocket Launcher on his back. "Corporal, get that AT-4 ready to fire, we've got armour inbound. Let's move, go."

The squad quickly sets up a hasty ambush in the two buildings as the Russian squad begins to draw close. Snipers and Gunners taking positions with everyone else laying in wait behind cover.

Ramirez takes a quick peak from the window he's hidden behind. Approaching steadily is a Russian squad of a dozen men and a BTR, moving at a brisk pace. The Commanding officer of the invading soldier's gestures to the squads left flank, towards the thundering rapport of the M1 Abrums a block over. Most likely to flank the M1 and hit it from the rear.

The Rangers wait in quiet anticipation of Sergeant Foleys word to attack, the Russians now walking into a perfect firing position. The fingers of the Rangers instinctively twitch to the triggers of their weapons; the only thing holding them back is the order to unleash a hail of lead by the Sergeant. Foley inhales quietly. He whispers into his comm.

"Now"

The sound of an AT-4 from the top floor being fired followed by the BTR exploding into flame and smoke gives the signal to the men of Hunter 2-1. The Rangers open fire upon the surprised Russian Infantry caught flatfooted by the Rangers ambush.

The Russian soldiers have no chance. They are ravaged by the rounds set forth from the American's weapons, the majority killed and a remaining three wounded.

With the situation relatively secure, Dunn bursts through the door of the building and marches into the street. He levels his SCAR and takes aim at a wounded Russian attempting to crawl away. He doesn't get far as Dunn finishes off the wounded man. With blinding speed he turns to another wounded Russian that was drawing his side arm. A pink mist bursts from the man's head, who then goes completely limp, bereft of life. He notices the last man, lying still on the ground with laboured breathing from a collapsed lung. Dunn slowly approaches the gasping solider and places his boot on the man's chest, pressing down firmly, to hold him in place. Dunn locks eyes with the man and points the barrel of his weapon between the man's eyes, preparing to snuff out an already flickering candle. The helpless enemy now lays at the American mans mercy. Dunn saw everything he hated in this man sent to kill his fellow countrymen. He saw the faces of every dead American Solider and Civilian at the hands of a Russian gun; he saw the destruction around him in the country he was born in. He also saw everything his family has suffered because of this war. How much he hated the ones responsible for inflicting all this pain. So, he would pay evil unto evil...

"You should have stayed home, Ivan." With a quick double tap of the SCAR's trigger, the man lays dead beneath Dunns foot. He took the spent magazine from his weapon and reloaded a fresh one in its place, and finally cocked his weapon ready.

Foley exits the building with the rest of the squad and approaches Dunn, the look on his face a cross of surprised confusion and frustration. "Corporal, what the hell was that?"

"What Sarge? I was killing the bad guys."

"That's not the point! You can kill as much of the enemy as you want but you better keep any personal shit squared away. Wandering out in the open is just asking for a bullet to the head. That clear?"

There's a moment of silence before Dunn finally sighs and nods "...roger."

"Alright." Foley gives a small smile, trying to give reassurance to his second in command. "Don't worry, we're going to try and fix things here Dunn. Just stay frosty and keep your wits about you."

Foley then turns to the squad and motions them forward. Ramirez again is on point. As soon as he reaches the intersection, he checks around the corner of the damaged structure. The M1 Abrams, coupled together with a platoon of Army Reservists in a heavy fire fight with seemingly three battalions of Russian Infantry down range. Ramirez groans audibly, becoming pessimistic of the approaching outcome, and motions that friendly's are around the corner.

Foley passes the private and calls out to the American Reserve infantry. "HEY THEIR! FRIENDLYS COMMING OUT!"

One reservist turns around to the sound of Foleys voice with his weapon levelled a clear look of sheer terror on his face. "W-what? Who's there?"

Foley raises his hand in a friendly gesture, showing that he means no harm. "Easy trooper. Sergeant Foley of Hunter-2-1, 75 Ranger regiment. We came to give you some backup."

Now aware that the man before him is a friendly, the reservist lowers his weapon and wipes the sweat from his brow. "S-sergeant Lambert. 85th Infantry Division."

Foley shakes the hand of the man, noticing that Lambert's hand was shaking violently, most likely from the stress. "So what have you got Lambert? Where's your CO?"

Lambert sighs heavily as he replies. "Dead. The Captain was sniped early on and our LT got hit with an RPG...barley anything left of the guy...everyone else higher in rank then me bought it as the fighting dragged on...the Russians have us pinned and we lost contact with our artillery."

A round whizzing by the two men's heads forces them behind the cover of some nearby sandbags, with Lambert cursing with a frightened breath. Foley then turns to his squad and gives them their orders. "Rangers, take up defensive positions and give these boys some cover fire!" As his men do so, Foley turns his attention back to Lambert and continues pressing for a sitrep. "What's the enemy's unit strength, you think we can push through them?"

Lambert shakes his head. "Negative. There's too many of them, they are packing a shit load of fire power and they've been getting waves of reinforcements. We've been trying for two hours and all we've been doing is losing more men trying to go forward. We got flanked three times already and the only way out is back the way we came."

A group of Russians beginning to move out of cover draws Foleys attention. He fire's off a round with his mounted M203, the round exploding in the middle of the small group, killing the group and sending arms and legs flying. Foley loads another M203 round and begins popping a couple rounds from his SCAR into the silhouettes in the distance. Foley points to the Abrams tank firing into a building downrange. "What's the story with the Tank? They should be moving up while we cover them!"

"Those guys got separated from the 1st Armoured. They can still move and shoot but have been taking a heavy beating, it's taken everything we have to keep the RPG teams off of them, but the last hit they took have started complicating their combat effectiveness. The engine has started giving those guys problems and some of their systems are fucked up. They take another direct hit or two and they might go off like a Fire Cracker. If they advance into that, their goose is cooked!"

Foley's face turns grim. "Damn...if it's this bad then we should fall back. From what direction did you boys advance from?"

"Back South West that way. Crossed a bridge over the river to get here."

An Idea suddenly pops into Foleys head. "How much explosives have you got?"

A look of confusion crosses Lamberts face. "Urm...A couple pounds of C4? Why?"

"Take as many men as you need and get some of the C4 planted on that bridge. When we fallback to the other side, we're going to blow it, keep the Russians from advancing any further. My men will hold here for five minutes then follow you across the bridge, so you boys better have it set when we come running."

"Alright. I'll take six of my guys and get the C4 planted then. I'll leave the rest of my men with you...just take good care of these guys, alright."

Foley gives a warm smile. "Don't worry, we've got your six, Hooah."

Lambert then turns to the closest six soldiers and points to each of them. "Alright you guys, grab the C4, we're getting back to the bridge. The rest of the squad will help our Ranger friends here." Lambert turns back to Foley. "The guys in the tank are on channel 10.3 on the radio if you want to direct them...we'll get that bridge ready to blow."

With that, Lambert and the six men grab several nearby bags of C4 and begin to double time to the bridge. Foley watches for a moment before turning his attention to the incoming hostiles. He fires rounds down range, suppressing the enemy's movement.

"RPG TEAMS INCOMMING!"

Ramirez snaps his head down range at the sound of a Rangers shouting, trying to get a bead on the RPG wielding tangos. He manages to sight one preparing to fire at the M1 Tank the private had taken cover beside. He depresses the trigger, the single round fired impacts the man's throat. He jerks upwards suddenly as he fires the RPG. The rocket fly's wide and screams into a building next to the tank, bricks, mortar and debris rain down on the tank and the Rangers taking cover beside it. The Private spots another RPG solider advancing and fires two rounds, one impacting the man's shoulder and the other his torso. He drops like a sack of potatoes. Ramirez knows that this M1 Abrams is a major asset; he can't afford to let the Russian RPG teams get a clean shot on it.

Blood suddenly splatters upon Ramirez.

The private freezes. Was he just hit? Then why hadn't he felt it? Could it be shock?

A heavy thud of a body hitting the ground next to him made Ramirez realize the source of the blood now upon his face and uniform. He looks down to see a Ranger groaning in pain and grabbing his neck. He turns the man over and assesses the man's wound. It's serious. Blood is spurting from his neck. The private notices Dunn rushing up and pulling out a medical kit.

The Corporal starts taking out bandages. "Hold on bro, I've got you! Ramirez, I've got him, give me some cover fire will ya?"

Ramirez gives his head a hard shake, trying to get his bearings, before finally sighting another target with his M4 and shooting again. Russian troops keep advancing into the Americans Gunfire, wave after seemingly endless wave.

Dunn worked fast on the wound of the bleeding man, his hands a blur in the act of preserving life. "Hang on man, I'll patch you up, just hold on and stay with me alright?"

The man only gurgled in response, his mouth filling with blood. "Man, whatever the Sarge has in, mind he better get it done fast."

...

"I'M HIT!"

More gunfire sounds and adds ten more holes in Scarecrows body. His body slumps down to the floor, propped up against a wall. His body remains still.

"SCARCROW IS DOWN!" Ghost fires at the Ultranationalist charging through the door that killed his team member.

"NO DAMNIT! THOSE FUCKIN BASTARDS!" Ozone fly's into a rage, unloading his clip into two men charging up the stairs. He reloads a fresh mag and charges back down the stairs, taking down another three tangos, trying to keep the basement clear of hostile troops.

Roach desperately tries to keep the enemy from advancing on the safe house, suppressing enemy movement with the M240. _Scarecrow's dead? He can't be! Thiers no way!_

It's been four minutes and thirty seconds of intense fighting, the 141 was being heavily outnumbered by enemy reinforcements in the form of enemy foot mobiles and helicopters, all their claymores have been expended and another member of their team was killed.

Roach calls out to Ghost, his voice shaking as much as his body. "GHOST! HOW MUCH LONGER IS THAT TRANSFER?"

"Another thirty seconds mate, just don't stop shooting!"

"Watch yourself, another RPG team is inbound you guys." Toad radioed. "Archer, give me cover I'm displacing again."

"Roger, just stay low."

The surviving men of the 141 are now on the knifes edge of annihilation, and they knew it. But they had to protect the DSM until that file transfer was complete, and those last seconds seemed to mock them. Time kept ticking...as fast as a second was to come and go, to the men of the Task Force, it seemed like time was crawling sluggishly, and they wished...oh how they wished time would go by faster so this nightmare could end.

Roach ran out of ammo yet a fourth time and reloaded another box mag. He cursed how the last few seconds seem to laugh at them and their enemy was literally a sea of men armed with automatic weapons, descending upon them from all sides. _God damn it...finish downloading already for fucksake! Finnish so we can get our scrawny assess out of this fucking mess!_

At long last, Ghost's voice finally brings the long awaited words that they all were so desperately waiting to hear: "Roach, the transfer's complete! I'll cover the main approach while you get the DSM! Ozone, prepare to move out from the basement in five seconds! Move!"

Immediately, Roach bolts to the living room and grabs the DSM off the table, placing it securely in his combat jacket. "Got it!" As he passed Scarecrows body, he stops and goes through the man's tunic, finding the digital camera and solemnly placing it in one of his pockets. _I'll make sure these reach someone man...rest easy. You've earned it._

Sheppard's voice is then heard on the radio. "This is Shepherd. We're almost at the LZ. What's your status, over?"

Ghost replies as he loads another fresh mag into his ACR. "The Download's complete! We're on our way to the LZ!" Ghost then motions to Roach. It's time to leave. "Roach, let's go!"

"Don't need to tell me twice Lieutenant!"

The two men bolt out the front door, running towards the field behind the house in the direction of the LZ. Ozone follows them several meters behind. The three men fire on the run, tagging tangos as they popped up into their sights.

A sniper with a Dragunov popped up from behind a stump to attack the three men, only to be met with a round to the head from Archers EBR.

The tree line up ahead begins getting closer as Ghost, Roach and Ozone, passed a few farming structures. Each step bringing them closer to the LZ, pushing through enemy forces as they were running at full stride.

An explosion hitting the ground, startles Roach and Ozone.

Ghost keeps his head and shouts back to his men. "They're bracketing our position with mortars, keep moving but watch your back!"

The mortars keep falling around the men as they ran. Roach can feel his lungs burning as he tried desperately to catch his breath. He slings his M240 on his back, now concentrating on running as fast as he can. A sudden explosion followed by Ozone screaming stops Ghost and Roach in their tracks.

Turning back, they see Ozone lying on the ground with his left leg blown off from just below the knee, his lower leg laying three feet away from him and his AUG dropped in front of him.

"Ozone! Hold on man, I'm coming!" Roach begins to run back to help his comrade, but Ozone shouts at him.

"No! Get to the LZ! I'll slow these bastards down! JUST GO!"

With that, Ozone turns over on his back, draws his M9 and starts shooting at the Ultranationalists approaching from behind.

Ghost grabs Roach by the collar and drags him towards the LZ. "Roach, I got you covered! Go! Go! Get to the LZ! Keep moving! We gotta get to the LZ! Roach, come on!"

As they both continue on, Roach can only look over his shoulder, as Ozone is finally overwhelmed and killed by the tangos in pursuit, only able to take two foot mobiles with him. They run into the tree line and down a hill, only fifteen meters from the LZ. A pair of snipers rolling out from behind some trees are quickly dispatched by Ghost as he covered his Sergeant. Just as Roach exits the tree line, a mortar explodes behind him, shrapnel embedding themselves in his legs and knocking him prone. His vision become's blurred as he drifts in and out of consciousness from the concussive blast.

Ghost runs over to Roach and checks his wounds. _Damn, that's a lot of shrapnel_. Ghost tosses a smoke grenade behind himself before he grabs a hold of Roach. Hostiles begin charging down the hill after the two men. "I've got you, Roach, hang on! Thunder Two-One, I've popped red smoke in the tree line! Standby to engage on my mark!"

The reply from the Little bird helicopter known as Thunder Two-One is heard on Ghost's radio: "Roger that. I have a visual on the red smoke. Standing by."

"Thunder Two-One, cleared hot!"

"Roger that, cleared hot. Guns guns guns."

The Miniguns spool up as Thunder Two-One strafes the top of the hill, killing a large number of approaching enemy's. Tangos down low keep advancing towards Ghost and Roach.

Ghost then gives Roach the AK-47 Grenadier slung on his back and begins to drag his friend to the LZ. "Roach, hang in there! I've got you mate, just stay with me!"

Dazed, Roach try's to pop a few Rounds at some of the closer Ultranationalists, but his aim is poor and his shots are sloppy. Struggling to reach the trigger of the under slung grenade launcher, he pulls the trigger, aiming at a group of six men. The grenade kills three and wounds the others; most of them are a bloody mess. Roach's mind was hazy, and as hard as he tried, he found it hard to keep his eyes open.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sakamoto bisects another Heavy bomber type, tallying her kills to about seven. The only Heavy bomber type left was the one Yoshika and Lynette we're trying to bypass to engage the two walker types. Though the tide of battle was slowly tipping into the witches favour, what little Neuroi were left were putting up fierce resistance.

Barkhorn charged into a flight of Flying Goblets and mowed them down with only a little difficulty, MG42's firing relentlessly, while Eirca finished off the last Medium type Neuroi in the airspace.

Lucchini and Charlotte crash through another batch of flying goblets that had begun retreating, the both of them whooping and cheering at the destruction of the enemy.

Soon, the girls were left with the lone heavy bomber type and the two unknown walker types.

Try as they might, Yoshika and Lynette could barely get close to the walkers to attack them, for every time the lone heavy bomber Neuroi would bombard them with its heavy laser fire.

"It's no good! We can't get close enough to intercept them!" Yoshika lamented.

"I can try and snipe them from here." Lynnette offered.

"Okay, I'll try and protect you from that Bomber Neuroi."

With that Yoshika and Lynnette were back to back, with Yoshika staring down the Bomber Neuroi as Lynnette took aim at one of the walker types on the ground.

She saw that the two walker types had a longer body then the Turtles, and had six legs, with two strange protrusions in front and an even stranger looking weapon mounted on its back, almost reminiscent of an Anti-Aircraft gun.

_They look so wierd... _The Britanian girl was momentarily distracted by the overly unknown, alien design. _I wonder what they are doing?_

A laser impacting Yoshika's shield ends any questions swimming through her head.

"Yoshika! Are you alright?"

Winded, the young Fuso witch nods, her magic slowly draining from the long drawn-out battle. "Y-yeah, I'm okay. I don't know if I can hold back anymore than four hits like that."

The Heavy Bomber type roars and charges another barrage of lasers at the two young witches. However it's thoughts of crushing the two human girls was ended at the sound of a voice, yelling an attack as if for the world to hear.

**"REPPUZAN!"**

Sakamotos strike with Reppumaru, her sword, brings forth a great beam of blue light, made entirely out of concentrated magical energy, that bisects the Neuroi in but one stroke, cutting cleanly through the creature's core like a hot knife through butter. It bursts into a brilliant explosion, the glowing white, shinning pieces of its body falling down to earth.

Yoshika sighed, relived that the major had come to their rescue.

"Major, thank you!"

"Thank me later! What's the status on those two walkers?"

Lynette sighted one of the Neuroi, taking her time to make the shot count.

The other members of the 501st regrouped with Yoshika and Lynette, eyes trained at the two walker types. The two land based Neuroi came to a halt in the middle of the field. The two strange protrusions in front of both Neuroi extended and flexed and then embedded themselves into the ground.

"They are burrowing into the ground, Major!" The Britannian sniper reported.

"What in the world are they doing?"Lucchini asked out loud, to no one in particular.

"Whatever they are up to, we're going to stop them!" Sakamoto declared, charging at full speed at the two mysterious Neuroi.

As the other witches followed Sakamoto's lead, Lynette re-acquired her sight picture on one of the walker type Neuroi and fired her Boy's Mark 1.

It took a total of nine seconds for the magically enhanced .551 inch round to hit its target. The round enters the Neuroi and then exits, a great plume of white smoke appearing from the hole that was made in its honeycomb hide. The creature screams in pain from Lynettes non-fatal shot. It then takes notice of the other members of the 501st approaching it and its companion and makes a counter attack as it slowly began to regenerate its wound.

"Incoming volley! Take evasive action!" Sakamoto barked to the girls.

The girls broke formation in anticipation of the approaching laser fire, but as they did, the beams fractured into many beams. It caught the young witches off guard; they had never seen a Neuroi beam weapon act this way before.

"LOOK OUT!" Sakamoto bleated with surprise.

The beams nearly grazed the girls dangerously; the groupings of the beams were so tight that the girls soon found that dodging them would be like trying to fly between raindrops.

"Major what the hell is this?" Barkhorn demanded.

"Damned if I know!" Sakamoto lifted her eye patch once the laser fire died down, getting a bead on the Attacking Neuroi's core. "There's the core! Below the base of its Anti-Air weapon! Everyone try to draw its fire, Lynnette, try and snipe it!"

"Roger!" Bark horn replied. The Karlsland ace then turned to Erica and barked an order to her subordinate. "Hartmann, watch my back!"

"Roger Trude!"

The girls soon began drawing the creature's fire. The lasers tore through the sky, the four beams splitting further into many smaller ones like a light based flack gun. The girls were reaching their limit and their ammo was dwindling.

Lynnette sighted the Neuroi again, acquiring her sight picture. _Two rounds left. I have to make them count..._ She took a deep breath, as she concentrated her magical energy into the two final rounds in her weapon. She squeezed the trigger, her Boy's Anti-Tank Rifles rapport boomed as the round left the barrel. Quickly, she cycled the bolt action, chambered the last round, and fired again.

"I'm empty!" Lynnette declared into her comm.

Being distracted by the other witches, the Neuroi didn't notice the Britannian sniper fire her weapon from far off in the distance. The first round pierced through its Ani-Air weapon, with smoke billowing from the wound left in its hide, the Alien invader shrieked in pain. Two seconds later, the second round hit its mark, pricing the beasts honeycomb hide and destroying its core, right on target. The Neuroi exploded in a brilliant white smoke and light. Its companion bleated in surprise, but continued to carry out its mission, whatever that is.

A magic rune began to take form on the ground starting at the point of the Neurois two protrusions, and then began to gradually grow larger as the final Neuroi continued. The Final Neuroi fired at the young witches, its laser beams coming close to impacting the girls of the 501st.

The girls couldn't help but gape at the scene before them: The Neuroi was tapping into the Natural reservoir of Magic energy. Charlotte was in so much shock, the only thing that came to her mind to say was simply: "What. The. HELL?"

"It's tapping into the magic energy!" Sakamoto stated in disbelief. She couldn't believe that the Neuroi would be searching for sources of Magic for their own use. But the scene before her only proved to her that it was possible. "We have to stop it before it finishes whatever it's up to!"

"I'll try! My shield might be able to let me get close enough!" Yoshika said with a determined look on her face.

Sakamoto turned to the young witch, with a stern look on her face. "You're certain about that? You've taken a lot of fire Miyafuji, can your shields last against another hit?"

"I think so..." Yoshika replied, though deep down she was concerned about how much she could take before being unable to fight anymore. But regardless, she wanted to try at least.

There was a moment of silence as Mio considered the young girls offer. She was hesitant about sending the young girl into the meat grinder, but Yoshika's shields were the strongest of any witch in the 501st, even with her energy being at such a low level.

The magic circle growing around the Neuroi on the ground started becoming larger still, growing steadily and the Neuroi attempted to draw some power from the location.

"...very well...the girls will cover you and me while we get close. I'll follow behind you and strike with Reppumaru. Just don't do anything reckless, understood?"

"Yes mamm!"

"ALRIGHT! LETS DO IT!" Lucchini shouted, laughing as she paired up with Shirley as the two girls prepared their special tag-team attack.

With that the girls charged at the lone Neuroi. The beast squealed and fired in rapped secession, the beams splitting once they got close to the witches. Shirley took hold of Lucchini's small hand and gave the girl a wry smile. "Alright Lucchini, here we go!"

"Yeah! Yeah! Do it Shirley!" the younger girl cheered.

With all her strength, Shirley threw the little Romangan girl at the Neuroi as Lucchini brought up a staggered wall of magic shields, flying at the lone enemy with blinding speed. The Neuroi fired another volley at the small girl, but Lucchini's shield simply crashed through the laser fire, while Yoshika and Sakamoto followed several feet behind her. Luchini then impacted the Neuroi's left side, taking out its left legs and a good portion of its body.

"Yay! I hit it!" The younger girl was ecstatic; she had wounded the lone Neuroi.

Yoshkia then brought up her shield as Mio Sakamoto tossed aside her Type 99, now committing herself to full, double handed swing with her sword. The Neuroi desperately fired again, the beams of light impacting the young Fuso witches shield. Yoshika's vision momentarily darkened as she started to feel more exhausted. But through her sheer will, she forced herself to stay awake, noticing her shield flicker a bit, her magic energy being drained to a dangerously low level. Soon the two girls that hailed from the land of Fuso were at last within striking range. Yoshika fired a long burst at the Neuroi, the rounds hitting the Neuroi's hide as she passed over top of it.

In one final effort, the Neuroi fired one last volley, this time at Sakamoto. The major saw the attack coming. She raised her sword over her head and swung.

**"REPPUZAN!"**

She cut trough both laser beam and Neuroi in one stroke. The Neuroi exploded spectacularly. The enemy was now totally, and completely defeated.

But Sakamoto noticed Yoshika landing on the ground and collapsing from the fatigue, laying in the middle of the magic circle now formed in the ground. The magic circle then grew again in size by another fifty meters.

"Miyafuji!" Sakamoto cried out to the young witch. "Miyafuji get up!"

"I...I can't...move...so...tired..." came a weak reply.

Sheathing her sword, Sakamoto descended to the ground and picked up the girls tired body. Yoshika had finally reached her limit; she was out like a light. Quickly, Sakamoto carried the young girl up and away from the Magic circle as the witches regrouped some 150 meters from the magic circle.

Lynette took Yoshika in her arms and tried to waken her friend. "Yoshika! Wake up! Please wake up Yoshika!"

Sakamoto sighed heavily. "She's alright Lynette, she's just exhausted from the battle. With some rest, she should be back in action." The major then turned to the Magic circle. It hadn't faded with the destruction of the Neuroi. Instead it was beginning to glow brighter. "But it looks like we might have a problem on our hands."

Barkhorn looked at the circle uneasily, before she asked what everyone was thinking. "Major, what's happening?"

The other girls looked at the magic circle glowing brightly on the ground, and then turned to Captain Barkhorn and the Major before turning back to the Circle again.

Mio turned to the Karlsland Captain, a grim look hanging on her face as she gave her answer.

"...I don't know."

...

"MOVE! EVERYBODY MOVE! GET YOUR ASSESS TO THE BRIDGE!" Foley screamed at the top of his lungs as the Rangers, the Reservists and the M1A1 Abrams Tank continued to fall back to the bridge. Every man was running like a bat out of hell for the past seven miles as the Abrams rolled backwards with them, firing its co-axel machinegun and 120mm cannon to suppress the enemy's advance. The Russians were in hot pursuit, relentlessly charging the withdrawing American forces.

"SHIT! OH SHIT! THEY'RE STILL ON OUR TAILS!" A panicking Ranger shrieks into his comm., his voice completely hysterical.

As Ramirez follows the squad, a man next to him takes a round to the leg and stumbles beside him. He tries to help keep the man up, grabbing the man's heavy field pack and pulling up on the packs handle. They don't even take three steps forward before four more rounds cut through the wounded soldier's torso. Ramirez watches in shock as the man's face goes blank, his body falling to the ground, now becoming too heavy for Ramirez to hold up. Solemnly, he continues running. He can't stop, or he will be next.

Dunn gasped, panted and wheezed for each breath of fresh air, straining for precious oxygen to fill his lungs. Dunn could feel his legs ache with each and every step he took.

"Oh fucking hell! I hate this stupid fucking bullshit! Don't those Russians ever take a god damned break?"

Foley gets on the comm, to direct the M1A1 Tank. "WarHammer! This is Hunter-2-1 Actual, keep up that fire and stay with us! Make sure you don't stop, we don't want you guys becoming flaming wreckage!"

The tank commander of WarHammer responds "We're doing our best here Hunter-2-1, our engine is acting up a bit. Also make sure you keep your boys out of our path or their going to get run over!"

"Understood!"

A screaming RPG makes a glancing blow off the Abrams, exploding and throwing up bits of asphalt. "Shit! That was too close!" The Abrams Tank WarHammer retaliates with a blast of its cannon, the tank shell destroying a Russian BTR.

After another minute and a half of running, the American's finally seeing the bridge in the distance.

"Their! Theirs the bridge!" A reservist whoops loudly and points towards the bridge now coming into view, spanning a river that ran wide and deep.

Foley shouted encouragement to the men. "The bridge is in sight! We're almost there! Keep running!"

Several of the solders fire on the run, keeping their buddies covered. The Russians return fire relentlessly, taking down some of the braver souls that held their ground.

Lamberts voice sounded on the radio. "I can see you guys now! The C4 is planted; get the hell on this side of the bridge! Those Russian are right on ya!"

"No shit asshole, like I didn't notice!" Dunn shot a sarcastic remark at Lambert pointing out the obvious.

Foley shot back at his right hand mans attitude, "Shut it Dunn! Lambert, when I tell you too, you blow that bridge! Everyone get across now, move!"

All the American troops begin barrelling towards the bridge in a mad dash. Foley, Ramirez, Dunn, and four other Rangers hold just before the bridge to give everyone else cover. The M1A1 Abrams was first to reach and cross the bridge. Just as it passes the first three feet onto the bridge, it stops dead.

"Come on! Move that oversized, tracked scrap pile will ya?" A ranger bellowed at the tank crew.

A member of the tanks crew started panicking over the radio. "Crap! Our engine just cut out! We're sitting ducks!"

A heavy volume of small arms fire poured down upon the Tank's position, the tanks commander now on the mounted M2 50cal gun, firing un-relentlessly at the enemy. A Ranger and a reservist took cover next to the tank and returned fire at the Russians. Foley, Dunn, Ramirez and the other men holding with them to cover those that were falling back, found themselves facing down more Russians then you could shake a stick at.

An RPG impacted the idle Abrams. The tank exploded into flame, pieces of metal are blasted off, killing the two men that have taken cover beside the M1A1. Three of the tanks crew; the gunner, driver and loader, are killed instantly, while the tank commander screams from atop the burning wreck of his Abrams, his life slowly burnt away from the fires raging from inside and around his destroyed vehicle. He tries to escape the burning shell of the destroyed tank, but to no avail, as he eventually collapses, his body draped over the 50calibure machinegun.

The other men could only watch in horror as the tank and its crew burned on the bridge.

"Oh...shit...we're in trouble!" Dunn lamented.

"Russian T-95! Coming this way!" A Ranger shouted, pointing towards a Russian T-95 tank rolling out of an apartment building and firing at the bridge. The T-95's round smacks into the bridge, killing five men that were crossing. The American's fired back for all they were worth, but they knew it was like a fly trying to go up against a freight train.

Another Ranger readied his AT-4 and began to prepare to fire at the Russian tank, only to take a round to the eye, the round blowing through the back of his skull and creating a pink mist. The man dropped the still unprepared AT-4 and lay motionless on the ground.

The Russian troops were getting closer, their advance was relentless.

"Everyone go! Get across now or we're dead!" Foley ordered.

Ramirez quickly snatched up the dead Rangers AT-4 and slung it across his back before attempting to cross the bridge with his brothers in arms.

Ramirez, Foley and Dunn stopped halfway across and started to pour rounds at the Russians as the other men continued their retreat across. It was then that Ramirez noticed Zander covering Lymen as they both crossed the bridge to the other side. Lymen was bleeding from a wound on his arm, while Zander helped guide him.

"Go Laymen! I'll cover you bro!" After Zander pushed Lymen away from himself, the Ranger wheeled around and let loose with his M240, mowing down about twenty Russians.

"Zander! Come on man, let's go!"

Zander turned his head to face the injured man. "Don't worry, I'm right behind you-" Several rounds cut through Zanders legs. "FUCK!" He falls flat on his back, writhing in pain.

"ZANDER!" Laymen goes back to help his friend, grabbing his collar with his good arm and dragging him across.

Zander meanwhile is pissed. While Laymen drags the man to safety, the young Ranger curses and fires his weapon at the enemy. "FUCKING RUSSIANS! YOU WANT SOME OF ME, HUH? YOU CAN'T HANDLE THIS YOU FUCKERS!"

A reservist shouts to the last group crossing the bridge. "HURRY UP SO WE CAN BLOW THIS THING!"

Foley then radios to Lambert. "Lambert! Get your detonator out and prepare to blow the bridge!"

"Roger that, I'm ready on your signal!"

The Russians were only a foot ball field's length away from the bridge. It was coming down to the wire.

It was at this point that things took a turn for the surreal...

Both the American and Russians froze when a small magic circle began to grow brightly in the middle of the bridge. Both sides stared, mesmerised by the appearance of the glowing rune.

"W-wh-what that fuck?" Dunn exclaimed in surprise.

"The hell?" Foley couldn't believe his eyes. He couldn't understand what was going on.

Ramirez gasped in shock and awe. Even though he didn't think much about Christianity, seeing as his family were hard core into the religion, he couldn't help but make the sign of the cross, and murmured something like a prayer under his breath in Spanish at seeing something so... unusual. The power he felt from the circle seemed almost god like.

The circle then grew larger until it finally encircled the whole bridge.

"Sarge! What the hell's going on? "

"I...uh..." Foley couldn't find any words that could explain this. He didn't know what it was or what was about to happen, so he said the only thing that he could.

"Lambert...blow the bridge..."

No reply came from the American side of the river bank. The Russians seemed to shake themselves out of their stunned shock and returned to advancing upon the bridge.

"LAMBERT! BLOW THE GOD DAMED BRIDGE!"

Lamberts voice shakily answers on the radio. "B-b-bu-but Sergeant, what about you?"

"I SAID NOW DAMNIT! THAT'S AN ORDER!"

Lambert hesitated for a moment. But with a resigned sigh, he raised the detonator in his hand up to eye level, and squeezed as the last man, save for the three Rangers standing within the middle of the circle, finally crossed.

The C4 detonated and as it did the Circle began to glow intensely, blinding everyone on the battlefield. As Foley, Dunn and Ramirez felt the bridge collapse beneath their feet, they suddenly felt a strange tingle through their body's as they were encased in a brilliant bluish-white light.

From the Perspective of their fellow Rangers, the Reservists and the Russians, as the bridge collapsed into the river, the three men seemed to disappear in a blinding white light as they fell with the bridge.

The Rangers could only stair in disbelief. Not only did they lose many men in the retreat, they lost the acting commander of their Unit and two fellow rangers. Their commander had disappeared in a brilliant light, and left them leader less.

The Russians on the other side could only wonder amongst themselves: "What in the name of the motherland just happened?"

The remaining American troopers, now safe on the far side of where the bridge once stood, slowly began a slow, forced march along the road, the Rangers casting glances behind themselves at where the strange event had taken place. The giant glowing circle fading into nothingness.

The Russians on the other side, only stood and stared, before they turned and advanced back into the ruined cityscape. The city was theirs for the taking.

...

As the Pavelow helicopter begins its landing, Ghost helps Roach up to his feet, wrapping the wounded man's arm around his shoulder to support his weight. "Come on Roach, get up! Get up we're almost there!"

'R-right. No problem." Comes Roaches weak reply.

_Oh bugger. Roach is in rough shape. We better exfill out of here and put old Roach here back together again._

As Ghost walks Roach over to the Pavelows point of landing, he can hear some chatter over his comm, some men talking to each other about keeping an eye out for snipers. Some of Shepherd's men exit the Pave low and begin securing the LZ.

"Finally over, eh Roach?"

"Y-yeah. Bout time."

A man runs past them with two others following close behind. "Move! Move! Move!"

Ghost Noticed that the men wore Black Uniforms and Balaclavas with tan CIRAS type tactical vest sporting Protec style helmets. The patches on the men's uniforms had the US Flag, and beneath that a patch with a Spade surrounded by a wreath, with a Rook and lightning superimposed on top of it.

They were new to Roach, he had never seen these men before, but whoever they were, at least they were better than having the Ultranationalists on their butts, right? At least that's what he thought.

Ghost couldn't make head or tail of them, and somehow...something made him uneasy. He couldn't shake it. In fact, the feeling was only growing.

As these new men locked down the Landing Zone, Shepherd exited the Pavelow and approaches the two men of Task Force 141, his hand shielding his head from the wind of the Pavelows rotor.

"Do you have the DSM?" Shepherd asks.

Ghost nods. Despite the heavy toll the Task Force had to pay and the hell the surviving members had been through, they had finally got what they had been looking for. "We got it sir!"

"Y-yeah. Got it right here. Safe and sound." Roach said, weakly patting his jacket where he kept the DSM.

Any feeling of relief Ghost should have felt was over shadowed by the strange, gnawing feeling he felt. His gut, his instinct, his intuition. They were telling him something. But what? What could he have over looked?

Shepherds face remained unchanged. No sign of emotion what so ever, despite the good news.

Something was wrong.

"Good. That's one less loose end."

As he says that, Shepherd unholsters his .44 Magnum Revolver. There is a clear look of confusion on Roaches face as the General points the weapon at him.

"Sir?"

The look on Roach's face changes from confusion to abject shock as a shot rings out. The .44 Calibre round embeds itself in Roaches gut. Ghost lost his hold on the Sergeant as he falls out of Ghost's grasp, falling on the ground; the only sound escaping Roaches' mouth is a stunned, throaty groan.

"NO!" Ghost screams out in disbelief, his free hand reaching out to Roach as he fell away. The general had just shot Roach. His Sergeant. His friend. It was then that Ghost knew he should have listened to his instinct. Looking back, Ghost saw Shepherd raise the .44 Magnum in _HIS_ direction, not even turning his head to look at him. Ghost brought up his ACR as fast as he ever did in his entire life. But even he knew that he was too slow...but that last bit of instinct now drove Ghost to kill Shepherd. To defend himself. Even though he knew that this futile attempt would be his last, he tried anyway. _I don't know why you did this you bloody yank, but even if I fail and never know...I DEFY YOU!_

Ghost's finger was at the trigger of his ACR, but he could see the cylinder of the Magnum already cycling the next round. He was going to die. As wide as Ghost's eyes were, they burned with anger and hatred. Everything he had gone through in his life, everything he ever fought for...would all end like this...

But then a brilliant light shone from the ground, blinding both men. Shepherd flinched in surprise, blinded. The Magnum in his hand jerked three inches to the left as the weapon discharged. Ghost felt the round bite into his shoulder.

"BOLLOCKS!"

Ghost squeezed the trigger, trying to aim at the American General that was set on killing him and his mate. But he couldn't see because of the bright light. He fired blindly. Three rounds impacted Shepherds torso the rest hitting a few passing troops. The old man grunted in pain and stumbled backwards into the Pavelow.

One of the soldiers in black shouts into the comms. "Shadow Company eyes on! Gold Eagle is hit!"

"What? What the hell's going on? What the hell is that light?" came another voice.

Ghost try's to find Roach while blinded by this mysterious light. "Roach? Where are ya mate? Speak up for fuck sakes!"

"G-g-g-g-ghost." Roaches voice stutters out roughly. "What h-happened? W-what's going on?"

"Just take my hand mate, come on!"

Ghost than hears Price over the comm channel, the Captain screaming loudly. "Ghost! Come in, this is Price! We're under attack by Shepherd's men at the boneyard! Soap, hold the left flank! Do not trust Shepherd! I say again, do not trust Shepherd! Soap, get down!-"

Static follows the transmission.

Ghost's mind goes completely blank. His fellow team members are being attacked and killed by Sheppard's men. He couldn't' understand why all this was happening. He remembered Archer and Toad and tried to radio them as the members of the "Shadow Company" began trying to sight Ghost and Roach.

"ARCHER! TOAD! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! SHEPHERDS FUCKING US OVER!"

"What?Fuck! Archer! Let's bail!" Toad shouts out to his partner.

"Bloody hell! Ghost what about you?"

"FUCKING HELL ARCHER, GO DAMNIT!"

The members of the Shadow Company are still blinded by the bright light, unable to acquire a clear sight picture of Ghost and Roach. But that doesn't mean they don't try shooting. The two men can feel and hear the rounds flying past them or into the ground around them.

That's when Ghost notices a large glowing circle on the ground surrounding himself and Roach. They both feel a tingling sensation run up and down their body's as the world is overtaken by a brilliant white light.

Shadow Company can see the two men vanish in a bright light, the strange circle on the ground slowly fading until it disappears. The Men of Shadow Company are frozen momentarily, staring at that spot where the two men last stood.

Two men, a corporal and a private, finally snap them self's out of their trance and approach their wounded CO.

"Sir! Sir are you alright?"

"Are you hurt bad General?"

Shepherd picks himself off the floor of the helicopter, clutching his wounds and ignoring the two men's questions.

"What the hell happened? Where did those two go?"

The two men nervously look at each other before the Corporal hesitantly responds. "We...don't know sir...they just...vanished into thin air."

"IMPOSSIBULE!"

The private try's to speak, but his voice is obviously shaking, despite attempts at keeping a straight face. "S-sir, you're wounded; you need medical attention, sir."

Shepherd just growls under his breath. His carefully laid plan had been foiled. Roach and Ghost have gotten away...somehow. And the DSM with the information implicating him in the events leading up to now have slipped out of his grasp.

"Damnit. The plan is compromised!"

The loose ends that he sought to tie up, still remained frayed and are now flapping in the breeze.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The Magic circle continued to glow brighter and brighter, the girls of the 501st unable to look directly at it.

"Not good. Whatever is about to happen is going to, and soon!" Barkhorn spoke with concern, like the Major she didn't know what was going to happen, but she could see that the Magic Circle was building up for a huge release.

Lynette still held Yoshika in her arms, cradling her friend while she was unconscious. "Yoshika? Yoshika wake up. Please?"

Yoshika stirred a little before blinking her eyes open. "L-lynne. What happened?"

Lynette smiled, glad that her friend was alright. "You passed out, but I'm so glad that you're alright." But then Lynette become straight faced when she turned her attention back to the Magic Circle. "We beat the Neuroi, but now that Magic Circle is doing something. We don't know what's going to happen."

Yoshika slowly turned to look and see for herself. She saw the Rune glowing brightly, becoming more and more blinding at each passing second. The other girls looked on as the circle continued to glow.

"That's...so weird..."

Suddenly, an enormous pillar of light, shot up into the sky from the Magic Circle, its height was several miles high, and the light became a white light so blinding that the girls either closed their eyes or shielded them.

"This is it, it has begun!" Sakamoto warned.

After about fifteen seconds of being blinded by the light of such a powerful reservoir of Magic energy, the light finally faded. It was then that the girls could see two glowing orbs the size of a Flying Goblet circling each other in the air above the magic circle, within the pillar of light. The speed of the two orbs circling began to increase rapidly.

"What are those things?" Erica asked the Major.

Lucchini tried to track the movement of the two orbs, but soon she found herself becoming nauseous from the spinning, her body wobbling a bit before she finally clutched her head and closed her eyes.

"Y-yeah...they are starting to make me dizzy."

"Some sort of magic power." Sakamoto said simply. "Be ready to act girls, they could be dangerous."

Shakily, the girls prepared to defend themselves, in case the two orbs became dangerous. They waited, patiently, half expecting to fend off pure magic energy.

The two glowing orbs were now spinning at impossible speeds, both seemingly forming a ring of light. Then they suddenly broke away from each other as they headed roughly in the direction of the base. One orb went North East and the other North West.

The girls stared with surprise for a moment as the magic circle soon faded. It was then that Mio Sakamoto sent a message on her comlink. "Minna! It's Mio. We've destroyed the invading Neuroi but because of their actions we have two Orbs of pure magic energy head your way! We're beginning to pursue!"

"I'm sorry Mio, what was that? Did you say it was Orbs of Magic energy?" Minna's voice had a tone of surprise in it.

"That's right, and they are heading north ward."

"Understood. Be careful."

Sakamoto then addressed the girls; they had to pursue the orbs before they got out of range to track. "Alright girls, let's move out!"

"Roger!"

...

Back at the base, Eila was in her room with Sanya sleeping soundly in bed with her. The Suomus witch was flipping through her Tarot cards methodically as her most precious friend napped quietly at her side. The girl from Suomus could see several seconds into the future, her magic power granting the ability of seeing that which is soon to come, though most of her predictions into anything distant weren't particularly accurate. Tarot cards that she carried help her predict things yet to come, a tool to utilize into aiding her gift. Today, she planned on finding out what's to come in the immediate future.

As she flipped through the Tarot cards, she placed down the first of three cards in the spread. Elia took the first card from the top of the deck. The Wheel of fortune. Having spent many years studying the way the Tarot worked, she recognized what the card meant: it signified new, unexpected change, and the appearance of destiny. Elia cocked her head to one side. _Destiny must be spinning something new for us. I wonder what exactly..._

"Hmmm...Interesting..." She muttered, quietly.

The second card Elia drew was the Tower Tarot. At this stage, the Tower Card symbolised at this stage: Disruption, Conflict, Major Change and a wide spread repercussion of actions, though in the end, the person would gain enlightenment and freedom. She then placed the card to the right of the first.

Sanya stirred lightly, next to the Sumonus girl's side. Eila smiled softly. _Probably dreaming I take it._ She thought, before returning to her deck of cards.

Eila then drew the last card chosen from the top of the deck: The Hermit: A need for Caution, Discretion and prudence. To take Counsel and find ones inner calm, and a need for planning. And ultimately there will be a need to stand back and reflect. Though attaining these things will prove difficult, demanding that great care be taken with a calm approach. She placed the card third card down with the other two.

_The cards are more cryptic than normal. But... it looks like...the only thing that's clear is that something unexpected is going to happen to change things around here._ Elia pondered the cards quietly. After a while, she gets up and goes over to the window in her room leading outside, opening it to get a better view of what's outside.

"Aw well. Most of the time my predictions are off anyways, so I guess I shouldn't expect anything..."

It was then that Elia noticed something glowing in the distance, or rather a pair of something by the looks of it. She squinted, trying to get a better look. It was then that two glowing orbs zoomed into clear focus. One traveled over the beach next to the base and over water before exploding in incredible magical energy and light that blinded Elia. The other flew over the bases airspace and thirty miles over a nearby forest before it too exploded in the same fashion as the first.

Elia blinked several times with surprised confusion painted on her face.

"W-well...I guess it was right then...go figure..." Quickly she goes back to Sanya in bed and wakes her fiend up. "Sanya. Wake up, something is going on, get dressed!"

Sanya moaned sleepily, her eyes groggily opening "Elia, I'm tired."

Elia sighed and picked the Orussian girl out of bed. "I know but there's something weird happening. We better go up to Minna and get a sitrep."

"Oh, okay." With that Sanya fell asleep again in Elias arms.

"W-what? No! Don't go back to sleep!" Elia groaned loudly, her face blushing red in embarrassment. "G-great, don't tell me I have to dress you again, Sanya. It's bad enough you wander into my bed every night now I have to get you dressed while you sleep?" Though on the other hand, even though she complained about Sanya's habits, deep down she didn't mind. It what made Sanya...well...Sanya. And she loved that about the girl.

"Oh alright then. Fine." Elia began to look about the room while carrying Sanya. "Now where did our cloths get too?"

...

The next thing the Rangers found from standing on a bridge that was rigged to be destroyed and being encased in a brilliant bluish-white light was falling fifteen feet through the air and into a salty ocean. As the three men finally broke the surface, they began thrashing and gasping for air, their hands barley gripping their weapons in the cold waters as they struggled to tread above the surface while in full gear.

"What the fucking hell! How the world did we fall into a fucking ocean?"

"Dunn! Stop asking me questions when I know as much as you damn well do!"

Ramirez coughed and gasped for air as he struggled to get to shore. He then felt his head bob beneath the water's surface as Dunn and Foley both tried to reach for him.

"Ramirez! Grab my hand so we can stick together." Foley directed.

"We better find the beach man; I don't want to drown out here!" Dunn sputtered.

_Dear god you're both drowning me!_ Ramirez thought, flailing his arms wildly.

The three men slowly began to paddle their way to shore. After five minutes, their feet finally found dry land, where they collapsed from exhaustion and relief. The three men breathed heavily while they laid face down in the sand.

Foley slowly picks himself up off the sandy beach and checks his SCAR. He cocks the action and turns the barrel of his weapon downwards. In doing so, a lot of water pours out of his weapon. "Hrm. Water logged. No surprise there."

Dunn and Ramirez check their weapons and do the same as Foley. As expected, water flows out the barrels of their weapons. Dunn checks his Thermal Scope, which is partly obscured with water.

"Great, I'll have to take my Thermal apart and dry each piece by hand. This blows."

Ramirez manages to get the water out of his M4, and then pats the AT-4 he picked up, knocking some water out of the tube.

Dunn and Foley turn to each other and begin trying to piece together what had just happened

"So Sean, where the fuck are we?"

"Damned if I know Jake. As far as I can see we're on a beach."

"No duh Sarge. What I _meant_ is how did we wind up on a bridge blowing up in Washington to a freaking beach in only god knows where?"

"You what, I don't know Corporal! I can't even begin to put any of this crap together, so how about helping me try and figure this bullshit out!"

There's a moment of silence before a worried look on Dunn's face forms. "Sarge? Are we dead?"

Foley scratches his neck nervously, the thought uneasily seeping into his mind. "Good question. If we are this isn't exactly what I pictured the afterlife to be like."

"True. Maybe there's some way we can tell wither we're dead or not?"

"Like how?"

"Maybe if we're dead...then we probably can't feel any pain?"

Another moment of silence goes by, before Dunn is met with a punch to the nose by his Sergeant.

"OW! FUCK!"

Foley shakes the soreness out of his knuckle before giving a small chuckle. "Well, so much for the "we're dead" theory."

"Shit man, that fucking hurts." Dunn spits out, both hands grasping and nursing his sore nose. "Am I bleeding?" he asks worriedly.

"Naw, your good."

Dunn then feels the Private tapping his shoulder. "Huh? What is it Ramirez?

Ramirez points further down the beach. Dunn follows the privates finger, upon seeing what he sees, Dunn's jaw drops, the only sound coming out of his mouth is a surprised, gasping wheeze.

Foley raises his eyebrow, confused. "What now?"

Dunn points frantically in the same direction as Ramirez; Foley follows their pointing fingers until he saw it. A large, extravagant fortress like stronghold, except it looked as if it were converted into a military base, with docking piers, an airfield landing strip and the like. A coliseum like structure, similar to the one in Rome that was also prominent, as well as a large, secondary Island that branched out from the mass of land they stood on.

Foley blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes as if they were tricking him. But upon looking again, what he saw remained. The place had a weathered, modern day Rome feel to it.

"Damn. Now THAT is impressive!"

"What the hell is this place supposed to be?" Dunn asked his Sergeant. "It looks like some sort of...overly fancy military base!"

"Sure looks like it." Foley agreed.

"Is it safe to even be here? I mean...how are we supposed to get back home?" Dunn asked.

"Not sure, but we certainly can't just stand around here all day, we better scout this place out, and find some answers." He then motioned for Ramirez to take the lead. "Ramirez, on point lets go, take us to that Large Fortress like structure"

.Ramirez looked around at all the buildings before he shrugged; unsure of which building the Sergeant wanted him to lead them too.

Understanding the Privates confusion, Dunn leaned over to Foley and whispered quietly.

"Which one dude? Their all big enough to count as a fortress!"

Foley smacked his forehead and groaned. "Whichever looks important. Try...I don't know, try that one with the...giant...Angel... statue?"

"Well, it does look important alright."

"Exactly, now get moving, Hooah?"

Casually with M4 in hand, Ramirez began marching towards the large structure that had the walls of a castle, with a humongous statue perched upon the top.

Their day may have taken a turn for the weird, but they didn't have time to rest.

...

Ghost found himself hitting the ground hard and rolling down a hill, bouncing off trees and rocks along the way, grunting, groaning and cursing as he did. He tumbled for several feet until he finally reached the bottom, laying face down in a rut.

"Bollocks." Came the British man's croaking groan. Ghost shakily picks himself up and holds his head as the world around him seemed to spin. He then remembers Roach. He quickly looks around the forest, trying to find his teammate. "ROACH! ROACH, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

Ghost hears a weak moan answer him, coming nine feet from his left flank. He bolts towards the direction of the sound, his legs wobble as he runs, and his equilibrium is shot. So much so that upon finding Roach, he trips over his feet and slides the rest of the way.

He picks himself up again and tries to assess the condition of his subordinate. "Roach, are you alright, mate? How are you feeling?"

Roaches head wobbles sluggishly, his eyes clearly not focused. "Like shit..." The Sergeant replies.

Ghost digs an emergency field medical kit out of his webbing and tries to patch up Roach. "Try and hold still partner, I'll do what I can but you're going to need a Medic with a hell of a lot more stuff then I'm carrying."

As Ghost pulls out a roll of bandages, Roach wearily looks up to the Lieutenant. "H-hey Ghost, can you give me a hit of Morphine? It really hurts man."

Ghost shakes his head. "Wish I could, but I need you to be able to feel it Roach, need to know what shape you're in."

"I already know what shape I'm in man; I got Mortar in my legs and a .44 in my stomach."

As Ghost wraps up the gunshot wound in Roaches gut, he give a small laugh at the quip. "Yeah, you lead a charmed life, don't ya Roach?'

"Well I have you along for the ride, so at least it won't be boring." Roach jokes weakly. They both laugh, at least until Roach starts coughing harshly.

The younger man lays his head back on the ground, staring up at the sky as his CO starts to wrap bandages around his bleeding legs.

"I'm going to die, aren't I Ghost?"

Ghost flinches at the statement. "Not true, your still alive aren't ya? You'll be fine."

"I don't feel it Ghost..." Roach murmurs weakly. Roaches eyes slowly begin to close, but a smack across the face keeps them open. "Ow!"

"Oi! Don't go taking any naps Roach! That's an order."

Once Ghost is finished tending to Roaches legs, he sighs heavily before he mops his face.

Roach groggily looks around, the forest seems unfamiliar. "Hey Ghost, do you know where we are exactly?"

Ghost shakes his head as he checks his ACR. "Not a clue."

"What the hell happened back their Ghost? Why did Shepherd..." Roach hesitates before he continues speaking "...why did he try and kill us?"

Ghost rubs his chin, deep in thought. He doesn't know, but thoughts begin to cross his mind. He replays some of the events that have passed in his head. But he doesn't have the whole picture. If only he did then he could figure out why Shepherd wanted to kill them and the rest of the 141.

"Not sure. By all accounts, we should be dead right about now. I don't know his motivations, but that bloody yank had us right where he wanted us... And we didn't even know it."

Roach then attempts to pick himself up, but he struggles to do so, so Ghost helps the man up. Ghost becomes Roaches' crutch now.

"So what now Lieutenant?"

Ghost looks about the forest, until he sees a place where the trees began to thin out."Well, we've still got our weapons, a day's worth of rations and some ammo left. But right now what we need is to get you to a real doctor." He then motions to Roach with his head the direction he plans on taking them. "This way."

The two men slowly trudge their way through the trees for several meters, until they reach an open field. Off in the distance, they see a large fortress like structure. It's a ways off, but not too much so.

"Let's try that place. Looks big enough, so they must have someone who can fix you up."

"Probably."

Roach then pats his combat jacket suddenly and quickly pulls out the DSM; it was still in his jacket.

"Well would you look at that, the DSM, I've still got it... Go figure."

"Is it in good shape?" Ghost asks his wounded friend.

"Y-yeah, not a scratch, surprisingly enough."

Ghost stairs at it for a moment. "Whatever Intel is on that thing is probably why Shepherd wanted to take us out."

"Oh, like what?"

"After we get you patched up, we should probably find out for ourselves."

Roach places the DSM back in his Jacket and then unslings the M240B on his back, using it as a second crutch so the two men could travel faster. The two weary soldiers begin walking towards the fort in the distance.

They had one hell of a walk ahead of them.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The girls were returning to base as fast as their strikers could take them, but soon they had lost sight of the two orbs that headed northward. At that point, it was decided they just return to base and debrief.

"Major? What do you suppose those things were?" Perrine asked Sakamoto.

"Not sure. They're nothing like I've ever seen before."

Charlotte sighed heavily and crosses her arms. "I just hope that they aren't some sign of the apocalypse or anything."

The younger girls soon became frightened of such a thought.

"Oh no, that's horrible!" Lynette and Yoshika bleated.

Lucchini actually started to cry, while Erica and Perrine meanwhile started becoming flustered.

Charlotte was surprised that the younger girls became so worried about her off handed statement and immediately attempted to assuage their fears. "Urm...but I'm sure it's nothing like that! Nope! Not at all! Probably just a sudden magic discharge or something! Nothing to get worked up over, right?" The Liberion girl makes a nervous fake laugh, trying to cut the tension.

Barkhorn fly's closer to the Liberion and whispers into Yeagers ear. "Honestly Shirley, are you trying to scare everyone?"

Shirley sheepishly rubs the back of her neck as she turns to the Karlslander and quietly replies. "Jeeze, Trude, I didn't think anyone would take what I said seriously. Besides, I was just thinking out loud is all."

"Hrmph, next time keep it to yourself, were on edge enough without you coming up with doom's day scenarios."

"Okay, I'm sorry, alright?"

The rest of the way, the witches flew silently, the only sound being the engines of their strikers. After several minutes in flight, the girls finally reached the base and made their landing on the runway. They began to taxi to the hangers and dismount their strikers at the docking units, at which point they heard Minna on their comm. links.

"Alright girls, everyone meet in the mess hall for debriefing, we have a lot to talk about."

Once out of her Striker, Mio adjusted the sword at her side and turned to the girls. "Well, you all heard the Wing Commander, let's go."

Once the Strikers were docked and their weapons put away, the girls left the hanger and entered the Main HQ Building, following the Major through the corridors and hallways to the mess hall. It was unusually quiet as the girls walked, their fears and concerns defusing any attempts at creating a light hearted atmosphere.

Lucchini clung closely to Charlotte's arm and was shaking nervously, while the older Liberion girl gently patted the younger girls head, trying to give her some sort of comfort.

Yoshika and Lynette held each other's hands, what little comfort they had coming from each other.

Erica's hands were resting behind her head, a dull look hung on her face that was unreadable, while Perrine fidgeted nervously, and Mio remained stern-faced.

Barkhorn kept a scowl on her face, despite the fact that deep down she was as worried as everyone else.

Finally they reached the door to the Mess hall and entered the room. They found Minna was already standing next to the mess table, her arms crossed as she waited patiently.

Mio noticed that Elia and Sanya weren't present. "Minna, aren't Elia and Sanya here yet?"

"Not yet they're on their way." The Wing Commander replied. "The two objects came into proximity of the base and we will need to try and discuss what has happened here."

It was at this point, Minna noticed the concerned faces of the girls under her command, so she tried to explain at least a bit of what happened. "They both detonated in two different locations, so far though, it appears it wasn't an attack or anything dangerous, but it was unusual phenomena regardless."

The faces of the girls changed from fear and uncertainty to confusion, but as far as Minna was concerned, it was better than the former emotions running through her girls.

"So are we going to start the debriefing now?" Barkhorn asked.

"We will once Elia and Sanya join us, which shouldn't be long now."

...

Upon entering the perimeter, stealthily moving their way in the shadows, the three Rangers found that there were few personnel actually running around on base, though they noticed that the few that did were moving briskly. They noted that most of these people moving about were mostly POG's: "Persons other then Grunts". Essentially non-combat personnel.

"Not many troops running about Sarge." Dunn whispered quietly.

"Yeah. I haven't seen many bases that had so little to no combat personnel. Ramirez, go over there, check it out and see if it's clear. "

Foley pointed towards the entrance leading to the interior of the large stone structure that dominated the landscape. Ramirez nodded, and silently hustled to the opening of the door way. Checking inside, the corridor looked clear and he motioned to his fellow rangers to advance.

Foley and Dunn hustled quickly over to Ramirez and stacked up behind them, with their weapons at the ready. "Alright Ramirez, lead us in, you're on point."

Ramirez lead Dunn and Foley in, the three men following the corridor, passing many rooms, some of the doors were locked or the rooms empty and holding nothing of particular interest. After clearing a corridor, the three men continued to follow the hallway for several feet.

Upon coming to a four way branched hallway, the three men could hear the sound of footsteps moving away from them down their right flank. They paused for a moment.

"You hear what I hear?" Foley asked.

Dunn nodded, "Yeah."

Ramirez turned right, following the sound of the footsteps quietly, Dunn and Foley followed suite, keeping their footsteps light.

Once they reached a T-shaped hallway, they heard the group of footsteps turn into a room, though the three men were a bit late peeking around the corner, so they couldn't see the group walking the hall ahead of them. They turned left at the corner of the hallway and towards the sounds of the footsteps.

As quietly as they could, with weapons griped tightly as they adopted a siege stance, the three men inched their way towards the door. At which point, Ramirez looked back to Foley with a questioning look, with Dunn standing between them in the line up.

Foley motioned towards the door, whispering an order. "Ramirez, take a look before we enter."

Ramirez nods and slowly inches his head to the edge of the door frame, peeking inside while keeping his silhouette low, listening to voices coming from inside.

After five seconds, the Privates head snaps towards the wall at the opposite end of the hall way the three Rangers stood. Pulling his sunglasses down and taking a quick double take, he turns back and rests his back on the wall in what appeared to be shock, though Dunn and Foley couldn't really tell, due to the Privates Shemah and Shades covering the young Ranger's facial features. The young man's knees suddenly go limp and he begins shaking violently, and his shades were sitting a bit crooked on his face.

Foley leans forward over Dunn. "Ramirez, are you okay? What did you see?"

Dunn grabs the private's shoulder, concerned about his squad mate. "Hey man, are you alright?"

The private silently begins to babble incoherently, shakily pointing towards the door, looking quickly from it, his squad mates and back to it again.

Dunn turns to Foley, cocking his eyebrow in confusion. "What the hell's eating him?"

Foley shrugs in response.

It was at this point, the three men could hear footsteps round the corner, coupled with a pair of voices, talking.

"Honesty Sanya, some of these habits you've been developing are becoming too much, you know that? I let you get away with sleeping in my bed; I shouldn't have to start dressing you now!"

"Sorry Elia."

"Well... I guess it wouldn't be so bad if you didn't make things so difficult."

Coming from around the corner, the three men could see the source of the footsteps and voices: Two young girls, around the ages of 14 and 15, one with long white hair and the other with short gray hair, their clothes heavily disheveled...and they weren't wearing any pants.

The two girls then noticed the three Rangers and stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide and mouths hanging open in surprise.

Foley and Dunn's eyes bugged out and both men went slack jawed at the sight.

"S-sarge?"

"Y-yes Corporal?"

"Wh-why...are those girls...n-not wearing...p-p-p-p-p-pants?" Dunn asked, pointing limply at the two girls, stuttering heavily as he spoke.

At that point the two Rangers then heard another; more familiar but rarely heard voice behind them blurt out in horror. "OH GOD, THERE'S MORE OF THEM!" Ramirez stumbles backwards into the open door, only to find the eyes of nine girls turned right in his direction.

...

Ghost led Roach across the base, passing several buildings, including an Air Hanger, though he only cast a brief glance at it, noting that there weren't any aircraft currently housed in it. He passed the structure and led his wounded friend towards the largest building that was nearby.

_Looks like some sort of headquarters._ Ghost thought, before he turned his attention to the Sergeant. "How are you feeling Roach?"

Roach was bent over and almost heaving, his right hand grabbing the barrel of the M240 so tight that his knuckle was turning white. The whole way, Roach left a Blood trail behind him, the bandages doing little to stop the bleeding. "N-not...very good..." he panted.

Ghost led his friend through the door leading to the inside of the HQ, following the corridor. "It's okay; just stay awake for a while longer and I'll find you a doc, alright?"

Roach only nodded weakly and muttered "Uh-huh."

Ghost continued to support his limping team member, all the while the bullet wound in his arm burned a little. Despite this, Ghost pressed on, more concerned about Roaches wounds. At one point, they both enter a pair of metallic doors and push though them.

_Hmm...a kitchen..._ Ghost thought to himself.

He then hears a group of people enter the room adjacent to the kitchen, followed by voices and quietly lays Roach down. Ghost slowly approaches the closed door of the kitchen entering the adjacent room and tried to listen, but the voices were muffled a little. He did pick up something about two objects that exploded in close proximity to the base the two men crawled through; all the while they themselves were undetected. _Was there an attack earlier? There should be a full alert with a ton of personnel running around if that's the case._ _We barely saw a lot of people out and about. _Ghost pondered quietly.

Roach weakly crawled over to Ghosts side, a trail of blood formed behind his path, before he came to rest, sitting up against the wall and weakly gripping the M240 with both hands. Ghost noticed this and motions Roach to stay put, at which, Roach nods slowly.

After adopting a siege stance with his ACR, Ghost turns his attention to the adjacent room again and slowly pushes the door ever so slightly, making a small crack to see though and listen in better.

Before he gets a chance to peek tough the opening however, he hears a man's voice shouting out loudly.

"OH GOD, THERE'S MORE OF THEM!"

The sounds of surprised murmurs and an ensuing scuffle can be heard from the adjacent room.

"What the hell? Who are you?"

"Whoa! Sarge, help!"

"Hold on Ramirez! Hey kid, quit pushing would ya!"

"You three stop struggling or else!"

"Hey, watch it! Dude, don't let her draw that sword!"

"Major, keep them restrained!"

Shouting began to erupt loudly from the other room, with the sound of chairs being knocked over and dishes breaking.

Ghost decides to intervene at this point. With a strong, swift kick of the door, the British man enters with his ACR levelled and a target sighted.

But he was unprepared for what he saw: Three men, who appeared to be United States Army Rangers, were being detained, successfully, by eleven girls ranging from their early to late teens...and they wore no pants. Within Ghost's weapon sight was a tall, brunette girl, roughly aged at 18, wearing a grey tunic and had her hair tied up in a pair of short pigtails, tied with black ribbons. Ghost found himself looking twice at this girl for some reason.

Everyone within the room was silent and still. Ghost looked about the room at the other girls, and saw that they were very young. But turning to the three Rangers, he saw them raise their weapons at him, the three men we're obviously shaken and confused. Ghost didn't want a fire fight in a room full of children, so he held his fire, but kept his weapon levelled.

_Well, this day just keeps getting better now don't it?_ Ghost thought to himself.

...

Having kept the door frame blocked so the three intruders wouldn't escape, Elia and Sanya push their way through the door and into the mess hall. They find a strange scene; Three soldiers in strange uniforms, carrying strange weapons they had never seen before, stood surrounded by the other girls of the 501st, the three soldiers rifles raised at a fourth man. The forth man looked frightening to the girls, the mask he wore had the image of a skull and he wore dark red shades on his face and a Radio comm. on his head, holding a sleek, Greyish-blue rifle. The frightening man's grey combat tunic was dirty, as were his camouflage pattern pants. One of the strange soldiers, a Private, was standing between his comrades and the strange man as he gazed intensely down the sight of his rifle, his weapon pointed directly at the strange fourth man.

It was at this point that one of the three men that Elia and Sanya saw in the hall, the one that seemed to hold the rank of corporal, peered intensely at the fourth man and lowered his rifle slightly, and addressed the man holding the room's attention.

"Hey, wait a sec. You look familiar; don't I know you from somewhere?" The solider asked, his voice seemingly carrying a Liberion accent.

The masked man scoffed and pointed his weapon at the man addressing him. "That right? What's it to you, yank?" The girls noted that the intimidating looking man sounded Brittanian.

The Corporal continued. "Yeah...that skull ski mask...I'd recognize that anywhere. You're the same guy that clocked the fastest time in the pit back in Afghanistan, 18.28 seconds while using a M1911."

The Dark skinned Sergeant turned to the Corporal while gesturing to the Britanian man. "You know this guy Corporal?'

"Yeah Sarge, you remember about that freaky British guy I told you about back at Fire Base Phoenix."

"So this is him then?" The man paused a moment, studying the strange, frightening figure before them. "You weren't kidding when you said he was creepy looking."

The Britanian (or British, whatever that meant) man, took a large step forward, keeping his aim on the Corporal. "So you were one of the Rangers stationed in Afghanistan? I've got a problem then mate. Did General Shepherd send you or something, your one of his boy's right?"

The Skull masked man began to sound as if he were on the defensive.

The Sergeant calmly speaks to the agitated Brittanian. "What if we said we were his men?"

A menacing low growl escaped from the already frightening mans throat. "Then we'd be in a bit of a pickle mate. Perhaps yesterday I could trust you, but today doesn't look very good, things have changed."

The Sergeant raised his eyebrow and continued. "And why exactly can't you trust us?" he asked.

The Britanian man's voice soon began to burn with anger, his voice accusing the three men in front of him. "I wouldn't trust Shepherd or ANY man under his command as far as I can throw em! The fucking bastard tried to kill me and most likely offed my team!"

The girls didn't know at all what the men were talking about, but they could see that they may have known each other and they weren't on very good speaking terms. Lucchini wrapped her arms tightly around Charlotte and buried her face in the older girl's chest. The other girls tensed up, worried that these strangers in their base would start shooting each other with the girls caught between them, with Mio and Barkhorn adopting combat stances. They expected the strange Liberion soldiers would take offence to the Britannian man's words, clearly from the sound of things their CO was accused of something.

To their surprise, the Corporal and Sergeant only turned to each other calmly before the Corporal sighed and addressed the Brittanian man again. "I thought something about the General wasn't quite right. Should have known when he didn't give a damn about danger close."

The private meanwhile, looked between the two men with confusion, but kept his rifle trained on the Britanian.

The Britanian man was silent for a while before an amused chuckle escaped him as he lowered his rifle slightly. "Well, well, looks like I'm catching a break. Alright then, on to business I suppose."

...

Ghost then turned to the girls "Oi, girls, I need to know if the Commanding Officer is on base, is he?"

"She." One of the girls (one wearing an eye patch and carrying a sword) corrected.

"Excuse me?"

"The commanding officer of this base is a woman." The girl explained, her hand hovering over her Katana.

_Well that's different. Not often you hear of a lady commanding a military base._ Ghost thought to himself. "Alright, is _she_ on base then?"

Another girl, one with long red hair and wearing a type of green German tunic and...Dark Red panties, stepped forward. When she did, the girl with the eye patch hesitantly stood down. "She's right here." The red head said simply.

Ghost nodded, satisfied that things are starting to smooth out. "Okay, can you get her for me?"

The girls face was straight and serious. "As I said, she's right here." She repeated.

Ghost groaned impatiently. "Look missy, I haven't time to play games, this is serious. I need to see the CO."

The red headed girl sighed, trying to keep calm from Ghost's skeptical questioning. "Just who are you. You seem to be a solider of some sort but I can't quite place the command you fall under or what unit you operate with."

Ghost is growing impatient, but if identifying who he is speeds things up the sooner he can see the CO of this weird base and the quicker he can get Roach first aid. "I'm called "Ghost"; I'm a Lieutenant of Task Force 141 and former SAS trooper."

It was then that the Red head crossed her arms and stared directly at Ghost. "I am Wing Commander, Minna Dietlinde Wilcke, Commanding officer of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing."

At that point, there was a heavy silence in the room. The three Rangers turned to the Red headed girl, eyes wide and mouths opened. The Corporal soon shut his eyes tightly and placed a hand on his forehead. "W-w-w-what? She's the one in charge of this place? What the hell's going on here, this has got to be some sort of nut farm!"

_She can't be serious can she? She's the CO of this base? She can't be any older than 18!_ Ghost found it difficult to digest, but when he locked eyes with the girl and saw the look on her face, how her eyes carried the well aged wisdom of an officer, aside from the fact she asked questions and gave answers like an officer, and even they way she spoke as she identified herself, really made Ghost reconsider. _My god, she IS serious._

"I guess I'll have to take your word for it then..." came a defeated reply.

Ghost then felt the pain in his arm stab at him again, causing him to wince painfully. A younger girl, who seemed to be Japanese and wearing a sailor's tunic over a swimsuit, softly gasped and pointed at his wound. "Ah, your arm's bleeding, you're hurt!"

Ghost breathed deeply, looking to his wound for a moment before turning to the little girl talking to him, his voice seemingly taking a softer tone when speaking to her. "It's alright kid, I'm fine. I can wait."

Another girl, with long, reddish-brown hair and wearing an American army tunic noticed the wound as well and nodded in agreement. "Between you and me, I think you should probably get that fixed."

The Ranger Corporal takes a step forward to try and render aid. "I can try and help you with that man-"

"I SAID I CAN WAIT!" Ghost roared aiming his weapon again, keeping it trained on the corporal. The Rangers raise their weapons in response to defend themselves.

Everyone in the room freezes again, not moving for fear of angering the man further.

It is then that the sound of coughing rings out, followed by a weak voice that croaks out from the kitchen.

"Ghost...Ghost..."

"Roach?" Concern over takes Ghost's voice. He steps backwards steadily into the kitchen, his weapon still pointed in the direction of the mess hall as he looks down to where Roach lay on the floor. "Roach what's the matter, you still with me?"

Roach choughs again, this time coughing up blood, the red liquid seeped through the man's balaclava and onto the floor next to him.

"Aw hell, that's bad." Ghost murmurs out load. He turns back to the people in the mess hall and speaks to them. "My mate Roach is hurt worse than me; he needs to get treated first!" Ghost quickly helps Roach up onto his feet; the M240 is gripped weakly in the man's hand. "Come on Roach, try and walk into the next room."

As Ghost emerges from the door of the kitchen, everyone in the Mess hall can see another man being carried; clearly wounded and leaving a trail of blood behind him as the two men approach. The man known simply as "Roach" to the others losses his grip on the machinegun in his hand and it clatters on the floor. Ghost then lays Roach down on the floor, Ghost's concern being read through his body language.

The girls and the three rangers relax a little and slowly approach the two men. Dunn takes out a small medical bag as he kneels next to Ghost and takes a look at Roach's wounds.

"Your boys in rough shape and he's bleeding through his bandages." The Corporal stated.

Ghost wasn't about to start chastising the American man for stating the already obvious, Roach needed help and this Corporal seemed to know a thing of two about medicine.

_Not good, this guy has a gunshot wound in his gut and shrapnel in his legs. Not only that, the bandages are barley holding back all this blood._ Dunn ponders his supplies, and realizes that his field kit won't be enough.

The American Sergeant turns to the Corporal and motions to Roach. "Dunn, what's his condition, you think you can help him?"

"I haven't enough in my field kit; this guy is going to need to get to an emergency ward or something." The corporal declares.

The girl with the eye patch frowns. "Judging from his condition, I don't think he has long."

The young Japanese girl quickly approaches. "I can help!" she says leaning over the wounded man.

Another girl next to her tries to hold the Japanese girl back, a clear look of worry on her face. "Yoshika."

Dunns face turns from confusion to annoyance, wondering what some kid could do to be of any help.

"But he's hurt really bad Lynne, he needs my help." The girl called Yoshika pleads with her friend again.

At that, her friend reluctantly agrees and lets the young girl approach the soldiers attending the wounded man.

The American Corporal turns to the young girl and blocks her with his arm. "Look kid, give us some space, alright, I still need to figure out how to keep this guy from bleeding out."

"But I can use my Magic to heal him."

Ghost and the American Corporal stair at the young girl with blank looks on their faces, both men had been through too much weirdness already and this was probably the weirdest thing they had heard yet.

"What." Both men reply flatly.

The American Sergeant and Private look at each other sideways after the girl's statement.

The young girl extends her hands towards Roach and closes her eyes. A blue light begins to surround her hands and around Roaches wounds. A pair of animal ears and a tail appear from the girl as she and Roach are basked in a soothing glow.

The four men look awe struck at the scene before them. Roach can only look weakly, with his eyes wide with surprise, before they roll up into his head as he passes out.

Ghost and the man beside him look closer at what's happening, and notice Roaches wounds slowly begin to mend while surrounded by the blue light.

It was at this point that Wing Commander Minna stepped forward and gently placed her hand on Ghost's shoulder, a warm, sincere smile on her face.

"It's a good thing that Yoshika Miyafuji has a talent for healing magic and that you got him here when you did, I'd hate to think what could of happened if you got here any later."

"Um...thank you?" Ghost was still shaken by the large amount of wired phenomena, and it's been a while that he felt like his mind was put in a blender with a side of banana and nuts. He slings his ACR on his back and goes over to a wall to rest up against, his wounded arm hanging limply at his side. He then turns to the American men and addresses, them.

"So what are you three Muppets doing here? Last I heard a bunch of Rangers were defending the US from the Russian invasion in Washington."

The young American girl, who Ghost noticed was rather heavily endowed, so much so that the American Corporal's eyes bugged out before he grabbed his nose, trying to hold back a sudden nose bleed, spoke up worriedly. "What do you mean Washington was invaded? When did that happen? Are you saying the Neuroi finally attacked Liberion?" she asked with concern.

"Neuroi?" Ghost wondered what on Earth that was. "What are you going on about?"

The American Corporal turned to his fellow Rangers with confusion that matched that of Ghosts. "Liberion, what the heck is that?"

The well endowed American girl also became confused. "But...aren't you a solider of Liberion? I mean the flag emblem on your uniform looks a little off, but it almost looks a little like the Liberion flag."

"What?" Dunn turned to the Flag patch on his uniform, not sure at what the girl was getting at.

Its then everyone notices that the American Private was now looking at the wall, staring intently at a calendar. The Sergeant turns in his direction.

"Hey Ramirez, what are you gawking at over their?"

Private Ramirez takes a hold of the calendar and rips it off the wall, taking a closer look at it before he slowly walks back to his Sergeant, with it in hand.

"Sarge, I think you might want to look at the date of this calendar. Take a peek at the year."

The Sergeant takes a hold of the calendar handed off to him and takes a look, before looking back up to the Private.

"...1945?" He say's at last. "That's the year?"

The Brunette that Ghost found himself having a double take at earlier puts her hands on her hips and frowns at the man's question.

"Well of course it is. What kind of a silly question is that?"

"I think we just went back in time." Ramirez declares out loud.

"Probably, but I never heard of anything about their being magic used by the military." The Sergeant stated.

"Or little girls with a weird dress code." The Corporal added.

A smaller girl with raven black hair that seemed to be the youngest of the group, pulled away from the older American girl, pumping her fists in excitement as she looked at each of the men.

"Oh wow, you guys are time travelers!"

Ghost moans loudly. "Oh god I hope not, I have a big enough headache as it is."

Minna's smile never faded, as she addressed the men in the room. "Well then, I suppose you gentlemen have a lot to talk about as well. Would you like to join our debriefing, you're welcome to take a seat if you want. We can get better acquainted before we start."

The four men cast a few quick glances at each other before they finally come to a decision. The three Rangers grab a few chairs and take a seat, with the Corporal propping his feet up on the table, the Sergeant sitting back in his chair with his arms and legs crossed, and the Private sitting in his chair backwards, facing the group.

Ghost stood leaning up against the wall, watching as the young girl named Yoshika continued to heal Roach's injuries. "I'll stick around, but I'm fine standing thanks."

Minna nodded. "Very well, I guess we should begin."


	7. Chapter 7

It has been a little over two hours, by far the longest debrief that the witches had ever held thus far, and it seemed to drag out even more.

One of the first questions asked by the girls from the Rangers and Ghost: "Why don't you wear pants?" To which they answered by explaining about the Striker Unit Devices and how active witches needed to dress the way they did. After some lengthy explanation and some technical talk, as well as some history about witches in general, the men eventually got used to it, though they had little choice otherwise.

Each side; the girls and the four men, each gave their sides of the event's that transpired until now. Everyone struggled to try and piece together what had happened. Though, judging from what Elia told everyone from her Tarot reading, fate may have had a hand to play in all this. The how and why were still elusive. All the while, Yoshika was still busy healing a half conscious Roach, though she tried to listen as she worked her healing magic. Lynette sat next to her friend's side as the younger girl put all her effort at saving the man's life.

Ghost watched intently, not taking his eyes off of Roach and the girls healing powers. At this point, he was slowly starting to accept a little of what's been going on. But questions about the problems that had occurred hours earlier distracted him.

Dunn was finally lost at this stage, raising his hand as his mind struggled to process everyone's stories. "Wait, wait, how about we slow down for a minute and start again from the beginning. I keep getting lost."

There was a collective groan from the group as Minna started to summarise the events of the 501st. "Alright, once again: the 501st received an intelligence report from our Regional Headquarters Intelligence Branch. The scouts picked up the presence of Neuroi entering the airspace of the key location we had recently been tasked with protecting."

Ramirez raised his hand, asking the same question he asked a couple hours before. "And who are these Neuroi guys again?"

Perrine answered, turning to the private and speaking dramatically. "The Neuroi are alien invaders to our world. They had been relentless in their invasion and many lives have been lost in their path of destruction, and unfortunately, we don't know very much about them. We have been fighting them since 1939, but it wasn't until 1941 when we began making progress in defending ourselves."

"By using Child soldiers to fight." Foley said frowning.

"Because of the Striker Unit." Barkhorn replied firmly.

Sakamoto nodded and explained. "It's because of Docter Miyafuji's creation of the Magic engine and the striker units that so many lives have been saved, and that we haven't been wiped out by now. The world owes the good doctor a deep debt of gratitude."

Ghost stood silently, listening as the witches and the Rangers talked amongst themselves. He wasn't sure he liked the idea that children were being sent to fight a man's war, but after he was told that there were few men that could use magic, most of the magical population being mostly female and the best, strongest witches were often the youngest and their fore the most ideal to recruit, he didn't know how to exactly object to that when the fate of your world depends on a little girl wearing propellers on her legs and shooting huge machineguns while calling forth some sort of supernatural force of nature to fight a dangerous enemy that easily blasted regular, conventional military forces like a bug zapper.

The three Rangers turned to each other and nodded before turning back to the girls. "All we remember is fighting in Washington D.C. against the Russians." Dunn stated.

Ramirez nudged Dunn in the shoulder, grabbing the man's attention. "Dude, they don't call them Russians here remember?"

Dunn looks up thoughtfully before he finally remembers. "Oh right, forgot. What was the name for em again?" though honestly he didn't really care a hell of a lot.

Sanya leans forward and softly answers the American man. "Orussia, it's the country that I hail from. We're called Orussian's"

"Oh." Comes the Corporals dull response. Dunn didn't really like Russians, and even though Sanya seemed like a nice enough kid and called herself an "Orusian", to him, you could call a Russian by any other name; they would still be a Russian, and the corporal wasn't about to trust one either. He couldn't help bust cast an apathetic look at the sleepy girl.

Elia noticed Dunn's staring and began to turn a light shade of red, clutching her fists tightly. "Stop looking at Sanya like that!"

"Sorry." Dunn muttered. _If I didn't know any better, I'd say she has the hots for that Sanya kid. _He thought quietly.

Ramirez rests his head on his arms while his arms rested on the back of his chair. "Then that Magic Circle Appears and we wind up in the ocean, treading water. I damn near drowned on top of that."

Dunn turns to the Private and cocks his head. "Ramirez, since when have you become this chatty? This is the most I've ever heard your trap flap since I've met you."

Ramirez shrugs in response. "Didn't have any reason to say much until now."

"Whatever dude."

Foley finally sighs, his gaze cast to the floor with an intense, thoughtful look on his face. "Sounds to me that the three of us and those two 141 boy's are in a parallel universe or alternate reality." He declares simply.

"What's a parallel universe?" Lucchini asked the older ranger, quizzically.

Foley tried to explain to the youngest of the witches what it meant. "Well essentially, a parallel reality is a separate reality that is different in comparison to another universe in some way, shape or form, sometimes in very large ways and sometimes in very small ways. In other words, they are separated from each other by a single quantum event, though an alternate reality is one that has a different set of universal rules from another. Of course that would bring up the subject Quantum mechanics and the Many-worlds Interpretation."

He noticed that the looks of the girls began to turn into confusion at Foley's explanation. He sighs as he mentally kicks himself. "Then again, I don't think you girls would know anything about that."

Dunn and Ramirez silently exchange a surprised glance at each other, both of them wondering how the Sergeant knew about all this stuff.

"Let's just say this world and our world isn't exactly identical." Ghost says simply.

Barkhorn turns to the British man and asks him a question. "How different is your world?"

"Well, in ours the year is 2016 and the years 1939 through 1945 are long gone into the history books, didn't have any aliens to fight either. Throughout that period in time, we fought with and killed each other in our second world war." There is a pause as Ghost's head turns to the floor bitterly. "Haven't really stopped since then. We still are fighting, through the reasons are different."

Dunn sighs, nodding in agreement. "Same shit, different day."

The girls found it hard to comprehend, the nations they had known fighting with each other now were bitter enemies in another reality, and that the war they were fighting now had come and gone decades ago. They became uncomfortable thinking what would happen if the Neuroi never came, would the girls have been fighting each other at this stage?

Minna continued. "The only thing we know is that the five of you experienced the same thing in you're respecting locations at the exact same time, while what we saw in our reality happened at the same time as well. It's the only factor that seems to connect us."

Charlotte, or "Shirly" as the Rangers found that she insisted she be called, looked up deep in thought, with her finger pointed up at her chin. "So what happened then is that a bridge has formed between our realities and you five passed though into ours."

"Looks that way." Ghost replies.

"Yeah but normally it doesn't happen. I wonder what could have made this possible..." Foley wondered out loud.

Everyone suddenly turns to see Yoshika finally finishing the healing spell on Roach, who was now resting peacefully. The young girl's animal ears and tail retract and disappear. "There, I'm done healing his injuries. He will need to rest for a while now."

"Are you okay Yoshika?" Lynette asked her friend.

Yoshika nodded, smiling broadly. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She slowly stood up and then prepared to walk over to Ghost and heal his arm, though everyone found that she was very wobbly as she walked. Lynette quickly got up and helped her friend over to Ghost.

"Here, let me help you." the Brittanian girl offered, taking Yoshika's hand and wrapping her other hand around the Fuso girl's waist.

"T-thanks Lynne." The Fuso girl replied.

Ghost looked down at the young girl over his sun glasses and noted her weakened state. "You sure you want to start before you had a chance to rest up. You spent a lot of time working on Roach; you've earned yourself a break, no need to push yourself, I can wait."

Yoshika shook her head, her smile softening a little but remaining. "This wound isn't as bad, I can heal it easier and it won't take very long."

Ghost sighed and let the girl have a look at the gunshot wound in his arm. "If you say so kiddo, just don't strain yourself."

Extending her free hand towards the wound with an inch separating her hand from Ghosts arm, she began to concentrate the healing power residing in her body, her Shiba Inu ears and tail returning and the familiar blue glow appearing around her hand and surrounding Ghost's arm. Ghost found the blue light oddly comforting as he felt the biting pain in his arm begin to dull. The .44 round seemed to feel as though it was slowly breaking down inside his arm. The British man sighed in relief as the pain soon seemed to drift further away, as if someone had given him a shot of the world's most potent morphine.

_So this is what healing magic feels like? Roach your one lucky bastard to have gotten this first. It feels pretty damn relaxing._

Everyone returns to discussing once Yoshika begins working her healing spell on Ghost.

Within that time, a thought occurs to Sakamoto. "Well, Miyafuji is an extremely powerful Witch. And she did momentarily land in the middle of the Magic Circle that was activated by that strange pair of Neuroi when she exhausted herself. Perhaps what little amount of magic was left in reserve may have been enough to form a bridge to another reality?"

"Could that really happen?" Ramirez asks, his voice not masking his skepticism.

"It's possible." Minna murmurs.

" However, that leaves the question of how the five of us can get back. That and a few things don't quite add up." Foley put in.

Erica turns to Foley, gesturing at herself as she addresses him. "I have a twin sister who works as a member of the Neue Karlsland Technisch Ministerium of the Karlsland military, so I could probably get her to come down here and help figure that out for you, maybe even find out more about these places of high magical energy that have been growing stronger recently."

"You can do that?" Dunn asks, sitting up in his chair with excitement.

"Yeah, I'm one of Karlslands three top aces. I can pull that kind of string." the young girl gloats a bit before she points to Gertrude Barkhorn. "Trude here is also one of "The Karlsland Triple Aces"; she holds a lot of kills and has only been shot down once." Erica then chuckles nervously a bit before she continues, casting a sideways glance at the ground. "Though she does tend to crash on occasion, she pushes herself too hard."

Barkhorn immediately is on the defensive. "Quite Hartmann! They don't need to know about that! Besides your one to talk, you can't even keep your side of the room clean! For a solider of Karlsland, it's disgraceful!"

Dunn and Ramirez both gave each other a mildly amused, sideways glance.

"Man, that Barkhorn kid sure loves army Regs, huh Ramirez?" Dunn chortled. "I shouldn't be surprised; the Germans would be strict no matter what universe you're from."

"Yeah, you're telling me. The kid really needs to loosen up a little. Have a little fun." the private replied.

Thinking she was being made fun of, Gertrude stormed away from the group and joined Ghost, leaning up against the wall, just as Miyafuji finished healing the man's wound. "Those three remind me too much of Shirley's attitude at times, it's bad enough that have to deal with her laid back attitude, without three more like it."

Yoshika and Lynette both giggled and then bowed to Ghost in respect before joining the others, leaving both Ghost and Gertrude alone in their corner of the room. Even though the girls felt a little nervous approaching and being around Ghost, they felt that he and Barkhorn seemed a lot alike somehow.

Shirley laughed a little and turned to the three Rangers, waving her hand dismissively. "Don't mind Trude, she's always really strict like that. You'll get used to it."

Dunn gave a wry smile as he got to take another look at Yeager's large bust. "I'm sure it's not the only thing I'll get used to." he joked.

He was suddenly met with a slap upside the head by Ramirez, who then crossed his arms and huffed, unamused.

"Hey! Private, did you just strike a senior NCO?" Dunn demanded.

"You're the one trying to hit on a teenager Corporal." Ramirez retorted.

Dunn's face goes beet red and he soon tries to deny it. "Oh no way man, I know better than that!"

Shirley gives Dunn a coy look and leaned in close to the older man, whose face turned a shade of vermillion. "Oh? Like what you see, Corporal? Well, make sure you take a nice long look, they are all natural." She teased.

Dunn began to sweat nervously. He honestly didn't think that this girl would be so forward.

It was then that Francesca Lucchini bounded onto the Liberion girls back and groped Shileys breasts, shooting the Ranger an angry look. "They're mine! You can't have them! I'm not sharing you dirty perv!"

Everyone else burst out laughing as Dunn slowly shrunk into his seat. _I can't believe I'm being cock-blocked by a thirteen year old girl!_

After a good laugh, Ramirez quietly whispers something that he just realized to Foley. "Hey Sarge, is it just me or are these girls a little, I dunno..."closer" than just being squad mates?"

Foley nodded. "I have; don't ask, don't tell."

As the group of girls discussed things about their world with the three Rangers, who in turn shared information about their world, Ghost and Barkhorn stood silently side by side against the wall.

Finally Gertrude spoke up. "Still worried about your friend?" she asked casually.

Ghost shifted the weight on one foot to the other, one of his legs were falling asleep. "I was. I'm not too worried now though."

Gertrude tried to make eye contact with the older British man, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking with the Balaclava and Sunglasses he wore. And the air around the man, she found it unnerving. Regardless, she decided to keep a conversation going. "I get the feeling you don't talk very much, right? You mostly keep to yourself?"

Ghost shrugged. "Mostly. I sort of like having my space." Ghost could sense that this girl had put up a few fronts much like he does; she seemed to be the most serious and independent of the girls, though why she would need to do so confused him.

The Karlsland girl crosses her arms, her face becoming thoughtful. "Me too, I'm very serious about my duty as a soldier of Karlsland. It frustrates me when I see others shirk their responsibilities."

Ghost turns his head down to look at the young woman standing beside him. "Yeah, I joined the military and I was good my job. Then I joined the SAS and I was good at that too. Now I'm a part of the 141 and I'm still good at it."

But then Ghost stops and remembers how Price yelled into his comms about Shepherds men betraying the 141, making him rethink that statement. "Well, at least I was..."

Barkhorn looks up to the man as their heads now face each other, the young witch hesitating momentarily before she spoke "Before you were betrayed?"

"Yeah." Ghost sighed. "And the stupid thing was...I felt it coming. I should have trusted my gut."

Gertrude sighs as well. "I know the feeling, something like that happened to us as well, a little over eight months ago." She recalled, remembering the incident involving the Warlock from when the 501st was stationed in Britannia.

Ghost was intrigued by this. "Really? I thought you girls said that witches were your world's only effective defence against them alien things? Can't imagine anyone willing to mess with a sure thing."

Barkhorn nodded, but she remained straight faced. "That may be true, but not everyone likes witches. Sure, there are some in the military that idolize the young girls from any witch squadron, but there are just as many who would like to see us fail, and then replaced with something else."

Ghost knew that military life was difficult, but he didn't know that even in a weird military like the one the witches were a part of, there would still be politics. _Guess it doesn't matter who you are or where you are, their always has to be someone waiting to screw you over at some point._ Ghost thought to himself.

"Top brass I'm guessing?" he asked.

"Yes."

"My condolences." Ghost sighed.

"Thiers no need. Thankfully, the plans of those involved had failed when their top secret project backfired catastrophically, and we had to clean up after them." Barkhorn replied.

Ghost chuckled. "I see. Sounds like they must have got what was coming to them."

Barkhorn nodded as she turned back to Ghost. "I guess you can say that...perhaps the one responsible for betraying your men will suffer the same fate?"

Ghost looked at Barkhorn with profound interest. He had almost forgotten that some of the 141 was still up and fighting the last he heard. Somehow, he had a feeling deep inside himself, that Captain "Soap" Mactavish and Captain Price seemed to be guided and watched over by whatever higher powers that be. Ghost heard from Soap that the two former SAS operators had been through countless trials before Ghost had met the two men, and somehow, when he saw the two men at work, he couldn't help but feel that the girl may be right. Shepherd made a mistake trying to mess with the 141, because Ghost knew Soap, and he knew that Neither Soap, nor Price, would let what had happened to the Task Force slide.

"Probably worse I think." Ghost replied, finally.

Barkhorn then cocked her head, a curious look on her face that seemed full of questions. She seemed to hesitate a moment before she continued. "Have you got a family, Ghost?" Barkhorn asked.

The question put Ghost off guard. He didn't expect any real personal banter yet, at least nothing this personal.

He shrugs his shoulders as he replies. "Both Roach and the 141 are the closest thing to it."

A ghost of a smile momentarily forms before Barkhorns serious, straight faced look returns. "True, ones unit is the closest thing to a family. But I mean have you got any family at home? Siblings, blood ties, that sort of thing?"

Ghost didn't like being prodded about his family, it hit too close to home for him. So he remained silent. The only time he told anyone his life story was one time he was on a mission to save a bunch of school children that were being held hostage in the Ukraine by terrorists, and even then it was just to bide time for his team to get into position and to distract the terrorists. He passed it off as the story of a "friend", though in reality it was _his_ story.

Barkhorn notices Ghost's silence with confusion and prods a little. "Is something wrong?"

Ghost decides to change the course of the subject by using his wit, and he replies to the girl nonchalantly. "Oh nothing really, it's just..."

He turns to the young Karlslander, pulling down his shades and giving her a playful wink. "You've got beautiful eyes, love."

Barkhorns face turns a bit red before she turns to look away from Ghost. "That is grossly inappropriate."

"What's the matter, can't take a complement? That's a bit stuffy even for me." Ghost teases.

Gertrude simply huffs loudly and any further discussion ends. "Whatever. What does it matter?"

The two of them stood silently. Two lone, stoic loners, keeping their distance from the others, proud in the work they do as soldiers. Ghost couldn't help but find himself smiling. He was starting to like this Barkhorn kid.

Shortly, everyone's attention was drawn to a previously still figure stirring on the floor, groaning as he sat up. Roach felt his gut, surprised to find the wounds he sustained gone. He found the Rangers sitting with the girls, before he notices Ghost approaching him.

"Hey Roach, how ya feeling mate? Any better?"

Roach rubbed both his legs, finding no wounds or pain any longer.

"Um...I'm a little confused...what happened?"

Ghost pointed over at Yoshika and explained.

"That girl over their saved your bacon is what happened. She used some magic and fixed up real well."

Roach blinked, not sure he believed what he was hearing. "You mean that wasn't a dream?" he asked, moving the goggles he wore off his face and onto his helmet.

"Nope" Ghost replied, shaking his head. "It really happened. I'll try and explain a little later, alright?"

Ghost stood up and turned to Minna, taking off his sunglasses and crossing his arms. "So then, what do the five of us do in the mean time? Until we figure out how to get back home, or unless you've got a _TARDIS laying around _we're bloody well stuck here with you girls, so what do you plan on doing with us until then?"

Everyone could finally see Ghost's eyes, and they could see the hard, questioning look that those hazel-grey eyes carried, that seemed to pierce right trough them.

"What's a TARDIS?" Lucchini asked curiously.

Ghost ignored her question and kept his focus on Minna, waiting for her answer.

"I'm not sure to be honest...though I suppose we would need to contact Headquarters about the situation and what should be done, but in the meantime, I suppose you are welcome to stay on base for the time being." Minna's face then turned serious as she raised her finger in a warning. "Granted that there will be some conditions during your stay, that and we will need to find you all suitable living quarters."

"Of course." Ghost's reply wasn't sarcastic nor friendly. If anything it sounded more like a statement.

Minna's cheerful smile returned as she nodded. "That's good to hear."

Roach's stomach suddenly growled loudly enough for everyone to hear. Embarrassed, he slouched over and rubbed his stomach as he laughed nervously.

"Eh, heh, heh. Sorry, I'm starved; I haven't had a bite in a while."

"Yeah same here, you got MRE's on ya right." Dunn stated.

Ghost goes into his pocket and pulls out a small packet, placing his Sunglasses back on his face. "We might, have you three got any?"

The three Rangers gather together in a circle with Ghost and Roach and pull out a few small packages of rations. The girls meanwhile, watched quietly as the five men took inventory what little food they had.

Foley holds up a wet medium sized cardboard box. "I've got pork and beans for a warm dinner, but the cardboard box is useless though, as well as some Mac and Cheese."

Dunn digs out what he had in his gear. "I've got two packs of powdered fruit punch and some Kit-Kat bars."

Ramirez holds up a few small packets, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "All I've got is Peanut butter and Jelly."

"Well, I've got a loaf of Military issue bread you can stick those on." Roach replies, holding out a bread packet.

"And Peaches for desert." Ghost finishes, holding up his silver packet.

The five men look at their assorted food items, before a heavy, collective sigh is heard as the five men hang their heads in shame at the lousy excuse of a meal they had came up with.

"And we're going to have to share all this? Theirs barely enough for just one of us!" Ramirez mutters.

"I can cook something for you!" Yoshika says, suddenly appearing from behind the group, surprising them.

The five shocked men just stare blankly at the girl. "Huh?"

Yoshika smiles broadly. "Everyone usually cook recipes that they eat in their homelands, but Lynne and I do a lot of cooking for everyone. Plus: I like to cook. I'll make everyone a dinner that I eat a lot back home in Fuso."

Mio gave a hearty laugh as she threw her head back. "A splendid idea Miyafuji, though I think a few of us should get this room cleaned up while you work on dinner."

"Yoshika, I'll help you cook dinner." Lynette followed closely behind Yoshika, the two girls disappearing into the kitchen.

The five men look about the room, noticing the mess that was made in the struggle from earlier, as well as the blood trail that Roach had left.

Ramirez gets up and starts to set up the overturned chairs, before turning back to the others. "Well, I guess we did help in making this mess, and if my ma taught me anything it's to help and pitch in making dinner."

Roach nodded in agreement. "Yeah, and I left one hell of a blood trail behind myself, I should probably clean this mess up."

Ghost stopped Roach before he can stand up. "Oh no ya don't Roach, you just grab a seat, I'll clean up the blood, you've been through a lot already."

Dunn and Foley turn to one another, before they both decide to help prepare for the upcoming meal.

"Well, come on Dunn, may as well pull our weight. "

"Meh, why not?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The five visitors found themselves being lead through the hallways by Mio and Erica after they had finished the meal that Yoshika and Lynette had made, which proved to be quite filling and delicious, a better meal compared to the collection of MREs they carried. Things had gotten a bit rowdy, thanks in part to Lucchini and her antics, but compared to the usual routine for the five men, it was a somewhat different, if not welcome change of pace.

As they were lead through the corridors into a wing that looked akin to a type of barracks, they passed some of the adult personnel, most of which seemed to be mechanics, cooks and doctors, though they did pass a solider or two that served as a part of the small guard detail. Each of the people they passed, however gave them odd looks, the few soldiers they saw eyeing the five men threateningly with suspicion. Well...save for when Ghost came into view. The personnel that the group passed, whenever they saw the masked man enter their line of site, a look of fear or discomfort would cross their faces before they would look away, avoiding the man's hidden gaze.

Ghost didn't really give a damn one way or the other, so long as these people kept their distance and didn't decide to screw around with him. He knew the demeanour he carried was a good way to intimidate people, and those that were brave enough or foolish enough to try and provoke him would often learn the hard way that it would be a stupidly suicidal move to try and pull. Fortunately, these people were wise enough not to pet a burning dog when they saw one.

After a while, Mio and Erica came to a stop at a set of doors within the barracks. "Well, here you are, these rooms are currently unoccupied, so you can use them for the time being. The rooms for the girls are on the opposite side of the building, though I'd recommend you show some good judgement in approaching that area and respect the girl's privacy."

"Of course, we'll be sure to give you your space." Foley replied earnestly.

Mio nodded. "Good. We wouldn't want any problems, correct?"

"R-right" Roach nods.

Mio then turns to Erica. "Hartmann, are there any bed sheets in these rooms? " She asked the Flying Officer.

Erica looked up thoughtfully before replying with a shrug. "I think so but I can't really remember for sure."

Mio sighs. "Well, in case there isn't, we will need to get bed sheets drawn for them, I'd appreciate it if you showed them to supply. Minna and I will need to report in to Head Quarters about the Neuroi predicament and the incident that followed involving our guests."

With that Mio left the five men and Erica alone, making her way to Mio's office.

As they watched the major disappear around a corner, the men turned to the rooms they were offered, noticing that they were mostly empty, save for a few bed sheets laying upon their beds. Erica looked into each room, smiling as she finished doing so and winking playfully at both the Rangers and the two men of the 141.

"Well, looks like your all in luck; you've got bed sheets, so I guess I'm off too! If you guys need anything you know where to find us." The blond-haired Karlslander danced off down the hall as she hummed to herself.

The five men watched her leave before they gave a collective sigh and rested their backs up against the wall of the hallway, not entering their rooms just yet.

Roach made a contented sigh as he tilted his head back and rested leisurely on the wall, with a large smile painted on his face that was noticeable through his balaclava. "Man, that meal that Yoshika made was pretty damn good. I should get seconds next time."

Foley sighed. "So what do you all think?" he asked the group.

"What do we think of what?" Asked Dunn, turning his head to his Sergeant.

"About all this." Came the Sergeants reply, moving his finger in a circular motion at eye level.

Ramirez groaned as he held his M4 Carbine at rest at his side. "I think it's exhausting, I spent the whole dinner trying to keep that Lucchini girl away from my weapon. Kept asking me what it was and if she could hold it."

Roach looked down at the floor, taking off both his helmet and balaclava, revealing the young man's face and messy brown hair. "I wish we knew how we're going to get home."

"I'm more concerned about what we're going to go once we do get back." Ghost put in. "The worlds probably going to think that the surviving members of the 141 are a bunch of terrorists, provided they all haven't been killed off already."

Dunn shook his head and mopped his face. "I still can't believe the General pulled some bullshit like that... I mean, I knew he was a dick, everyone did, but I didn't think he was THAT big a dick."

"Yeah, and I'm also starting to question a lot already. Nothing seems to be looking right anymore." Foley added. He had been trying to figure things out since Allen's death, and now the questions and mystery only deepened.

Roach set his helmet and balaclava on the ground, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he stands back up. He unzips his combat tunic a bit and is about to reach into his jacket. Ghost however, abruptly grabs Roaches hand and shoots the man a threatening look.

Roach is confused by this and tries to make Ghost release his grip, but to no avail. Ghost shakes his head silently, his grip tightening on his friend's wrist to induce some pain in Roaches wrist joint.

_"Why not?"_ Roach whispers to Ghost.

_"Not now...later..." _hisses Ghost coldly.

Roach finally gives up; shaking off Ghost's grip and zipping his coat back up.

The three Rangers notice the two men's actions, but are hesitant in inquiring about the suspicious exchange between them. Ghost shoots the three Rangers a look from behind his glasses, though it isn't really necessary. The three men keep their noses out of it and keep silent, deciding its best not to prod. Dunn finally sighs and enters one of the rooms. "Ah, whatever. The three of us went through shit and I need to catch more than an hour's worth of sleep. I'm turning in for the night."

He doesn't even bother to undress from his combat gear; he rests his SCAR up against the wall and falls back into the mattress of the bed, beginning to drift off quickly into sleep.

Foley watches this and nods. "Yeah, we may as well get some sleep as well, we're going to need it to face the day tomorrow. What about you Ramirez? Are you going to bed too?" he asks the young Private.

Ramirez shakes his head negative. "Nah, I'm not tired yet."

"A lot on your mind I'm guessing?" Foley inquires.

"I suppose you can say that." Ramirez replies.

Foley sighs and turns into one of the empty rooms. "Alright, just be sure you get some sleep tonight, we've got a lot of work to do tomorrow."

As Foley begins to get into bed, Ramirez begins to march down the hallway, with Roach and Ghost watching him.

Roach calls after the Ranger. "Hey, where are you going?"

"Walk." Ramirez says simply as he turns a corner.

After that, Ghost and Roach turn to each other. Ghost silently motions for Roach to follow him, to which Roach complies, gathering his Balclava and helmet as he is lead down the opposite end of the hall to a quiet spot so they can talk. Once sure that they cannot be heard by anyone, Ghost grabs Roaches shoulder and looks over his glasses as he speaks.

"Look Roach, we better keep knowledge of the DSM away from those Rangers, and the girls for that matter."

Roach cocks his eyebrow in confusion. "Huh? Why?"

"I'm still not sure that those three Rangers can be trusted just yet. And until we find at least one of those girls who will be willing to help us keep it a secret from them, one that we can trust with our lives, then we keep it between us. In the meantime, we should find out if they have any sort of computers or anything so we can find out just what's on that DSM."

"I don't now Ghost. They don't seem that bad to m-"

"Damn it we barely got out of that fucking mess back their alive!" Ghost spat loudly, cutting off Roach from speaking and practically shaking the man. "We CANNOT take any chances! We can't. Trust. Anyone!"

Roach nodded nervously. He hadn't ever seen Ghost like this before, and it concerned him. But at the same time, he could understand why Ghost would be hesitant about letting the others know about the DSM. How could you blame him? They both almost got killed.

"O-okay, okay. I can get why with the Rangers. But we can get help from the girls, right?"

"Not until I KNOW for SURE. We have to play this carefully Roach, you understand? We both got bloody lucky today, and from here on out we must keep our shit together and our eyes and ears open!"

"Right... right, I get it." Roach says nervously.

"Until I'm 100% sure, we keep everything confidential from both sides..."

Ghost releases his hold on his friend's shoulders, slumping up against the wall, looking completely drained.

"Gary. Go get some sleep mate. You need it."

The young Sergeant blinked. _What the hell? Ghost almost never calls me by my first name. Usually he addresses me by my call sign._

"Are you alright?" Roach inquires.

"Just go hit the sack, alright?"

"...alright. I'll catch you in the morning." Roach then makes his way back down the hall and into one of the empty rooms to sleep for the night.

Ghost wipes his face as he rests up against the wall. Sinking to the floor, he unslings the ACR from his back and grips it, tightly, keeping it at the ready. Even if he was in this place of relative safety, he felt more secure with the ACR in his grasp. The British mans thoughts are running rampant, with both suspension and paranoia blazing a path within his mind. He's still unsure how the two of them will get back home, or what they will do once they are there. But right now, they need to find out what caused all this. Why Sheppard saw fit to betray the 141. Why he tried to kill both him and Roach. What could be on that device that was worth betraying them for?

"Why damn it?" comes a tired mutter.

It takes Simon Riley a long time before the lull of sleep finally over takes him.

...

Ramirez soon finds himself walking away from the barracks and out on the base grounds. With his M4 in hand, M9 in his leg holster and AT4 slung on his back, he wanders under the clear, starlit night sky, taking in the beautiful scenery around him. The base had a lot of aesthetic qualities, and he thought that whoever the architect was who designed this base was no doubt a brilliant artist.

As he marched away from the HQ building, he looked up at the large statue that dominated the structures roof, completely awestruck. After a while, he continued exploring, passing a motor pool of jeeps trucks, and some other vehicles that were by his standards, vintage. But he found himself enjoying seeing old WW2 vehicles that were from many nations and countries. He even noticed a Sherman tank, standing proudly by its lonesome, separated from the other vehicles. As he drew close to the large war machine, he ran his gloved hand across the olive drab armoured body, finding it cool to the touch, figuring that it must have been sitting for a while. A few mechanics that were still hanging out by the motor pool noticed him, but kept their distance from the Ranger, hesitant in approaching him. Similarly, Ramirez also kept his distance from the mechanics in the motor pool.

For a while, he thought back to the fighting in Northeastern Virginia, Arcadia County and Washington, of how so many of his fellow Americans had fallen to the Russians who invaded for revenge. He could still see the faces and hear the screams of fellow service men that had died beside him, the life draining from their eyes. After a while, he tried to shake these memories aside, as hard as that was to do. He fought back against the heavy feeling that settled in his throat and gut, wiping his eyes of the moist tears that were forming, so many feelings clawing their way to the surface.

The mechanics in the motor pool could see that the private was haunted by something, but they felt that it would be wrong to approach the young man, that and they honestly were afraid to approach. To them they could only see a strange and heavily armed solider from a world they couldn't comprehend, his face hidden by a Balaclava and dark glasses that hid his identity, his Shemah draped around his neck like the cloak of the grim reaper, which served only to further alienate him from those around him.

As he passed the motor pool, once he finally managed to get his emotions back into check, Ramirez finds himself approaching upon a hanger and a sort of runway. There seems to be light shining from the inside of the hanger and he approaches it, curious and wanting to investigate. Just as he reaches the hanger doors he can hear the sound of a prop driven aircraft revving up for takeoff, so he pauses and waits for it to taxi out. Without warning, a great big blur passes in front of him, surprising the private.

He turns to whatever just flew out of the hanger: It was too small for it to have been an aircraft. As it slowly creeps higher into the sky, Ramirez can make out what it is. He can see Sanya Litvyak, flying high into the night sky, noting that she was wearing some sort of propeller devices that he assumes are the Striker Units that the young witches told him about, and that she carried some sort of large weapon that looked akin to an oversized, multiple launch rocket weapon. And she seemed to have some sort of, glowing green lines...shaped like antenna... that seemed to float in front of her face.

_Damn, she startled me._

He watched her fly farther into the distance for a bit before he finally continued on. He marched across the tarmac and towards where the land and the sea met. As he came across something of a supply dock, he could hear the sound of voices. He silently crept up behind a nearby box crate and peaked up over the top to get a look.

He saw Yoshika and Lynette sitting on a ledge, overlooking the sea that sprawled itself out from the base. The two girls were talking to each other. Ramirez had to strain a bit to hear parts of the conversation, but he could hear well enough what they were saying to each other.

"Yoshika, you really shouldn't put yourself in so much danger like you did today. You pushed yourself way too hard fighting and using your healing magic."

"I know Lynne, but I'm fine now, really."

Lynne however, didn't sound satisfied.

"Are you absolutely sure or are just saying that?"

"I'm telling the truth! Why won't you believe me? Why are you being so mean Lynne? It's not like you!"

"But Yoshika, do you know how dangerous that was? Do you know what could have happened to you today?"

Yoshika was surprised at how concerned Lynnette was about her well being, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open a bit. But Lynette soon became surprised at the tone she was taking with her friend, and she silently, nervously hung her head, seemingly ashamed that she was almost yelling at the Fuso girl.

"I...I'm sorry."

Yoshika smiled. "It's okay. You don't need to apologize, Lynne."

But then, Lynette began to fidget with her hands nervously. "It's just...when you were unconscious after today's battle...I was so worried about you."

"Y-you were?"

"I was..." Lynette seemed to hesitate as she was speaking. "I was afraid I was going to lose you, Yoshika."

Yoshikas eyes widened, before a look of guilt crossed the girls face. "I'm...I'm sorry Lynne. I didn't mean to make you worry about me."

Lynette then turned to Yoshika, still fidgeting and her head still nervously cast down to the ground. "I...I care a lot about you Yoshika."

Yoshika seemed to have a surprised look on her face as she turned her head away and began to fidget a little bit herself, her face glowing red in embarrassment. "U-um... Lynnete?"

"Yes, Yoshika? What's wrong?" Lynnette's voice showed a tone of concern as she spoke, wondering if she had said the wrong thing to her friend.

"Lynne...there's something...something I wanted to tell you...but I..."

Lynette leaned forward, curiously looking at her friend as she was struggling to tell her...something...

Yoshika's words were being caught in her throat as she tried to tell her dearest friend how she felt. For a long time, Yoshika Miyafuji had deep feelings for Lynette, feelings that were more than that of a simple friendship. It was much more than that. Yoshika would have many nights having rather...explicit dreams of her dear friend. She felt so deeply and strongly for Lynette Bishop, but she felt afraid of what the Britianian girl would think or if she even felt the same way about _her_. But for some reason, today she felt that she just had to tell Lynette the feelings she kept in her heart.

All the while Ramirez looks on from a distance curiously. He didn't know what was going on but the strange scene unfolding in front of him keeps him glued to his position, behind his cover. _What the heck are these two doing out here?_ He wonders quietly, leaning forward a little to hear a little better.

Yoshika suddenly embraces Lynette in a hug and the words finally blurt out from her mouth. "Lynne, I love you!"

For a moment, Lynette seems taken aback by Yoshika's sudden embrace. But then her face softens and a happy, yet melancholy look floods over her. She slowly and tenderly returns the embrace with one of her own.

"Y-you feel the same too...Yoshika?" She asks quietly.

"I'm sorry...I was just...so afraid...I didn't know if you felt the same or not, Lynne." Yoshika said tearfully. "To be honest, I've felt this way about you for...a long time."

"M-me too..."

The two girls then pull apart from each other a little as they stare into each other's eyes, for what seems to be minutes, before they both engage in a passionate kiss.

At this point, Ramirez quickly pulls himself away from the scene, completely flustered and trying to keep low to avoid being seen. He spots a nearby office building and ducks around the corner and out of site, panting and holding his free hand over his chest, finding his heart beating at an accelerated rate.

_Oh shit, I should NOT have seen that just now!_

"Heeeeey, what'cha doin?"

"GAH!" Ramirez nearly jumped twenty feet into the air at hearing a voice speak out just from beside him. Turning to face the voice, however, he finds Francesca Lucchini standing next to him with a mischievous smile on her face, eyeing the Ranger up and down.

Ramirez just groans audibly and he begins to silently retrace his steps back to the barracks. Hearing footsteps behind him he looks back to find Luchini following him, playfully following and chuckling as she tailed his footsteps. Ramirez tried to ignore her and continued marching back to the Barracks, but then Luchini charged out in front of him, blocking his path and pointing at him as she did.

"You didn't answer my question. What'cha doing out walking around during the night?"

Ramirez kept silent, staring down at the little girl in front of him.

"Oh? You don't talk a lot, huh? Hrm...Can't sleep?"

Again, Ramirez kept silent.

"I guess your exploring then, right?"

But then a strange, wry smile soon crosses Lucchini's face. She makes a running jump at Ramirez, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling up his Sawfly Ballistic Glasses, revealing the privates dark green eyes.

"H-HEY!"

"Orrrrrr...are you spying on someone? ~"

At that, the private's eyes became as wide as dinner plates in surprise, before a fierce, and angry look soon replaced that surprise. But once again, he keeps his silence.

Lucchini smiles broadly, chuckling mischievously and lowering the private glasses. "Ah, whatever. I wouldn't blame ya if you were spying, so long as it's not Shirley."

_Oh great, she's screwing with me._ He thought to himself.

The young girl then dismounts her hold on the private and circles around him playfully. "So you gonna say something Ranger person? Cat got your tongue or something? Or are you just shy like Sanya?"

"Ramirez."

"Ramayonnaise?" comes a joking reply.

"_Ramirez._" The young ranger replies, correcting her.

"What's your first name?" the young Witch asks.

"It's James."

The young girl nods in an exaggerated manner. "Alrighty. So Ramirez, will you let me see your gun?"

The private shakes his head no, to which Lucchini begins to pout, frowning and puffing her cheeks.

"Awww, your no fun! I wanna hold it a minute!"

Ramirez tries to keep his M4 out of the girls hands but he soon finds that she's persistent... and loud."You meanie! I never seen a gun like it before and I wanna hold it!" she stomps her feet and waves her hands in the air in frustration.

He tries to go around her but each time he does, she steps in front of him and blocks his path and even goes as far as to try and climb on him.

"I won't let you pass until you let me hold it!" she warns.

Soon finding this to be a futile attempt Ramirez soon finds himself being worn down by the young girl's insistent demands. Sighing in defeat, he flicks the safety's of his M4A1 and the under slung M203 on and reluctantly hands it over to her.

"Keep the safety on you understand? This thing isn't a fucking toy."

Ecstatic, Lucchini takes and holds the M4A1 In her hands, and is surprised to find it so incredibly light, compared to the M1919A6 or the Breda-SAFAT 12.7 mm Machine Gun's she used. As mysterious, strange and futuristic as this rifle was, it still looked like a pretty fierce weapon, despite being smaller then the heavy weapons she carried into battle.

"Wow. It's so light. It's not heavy at all!"

Ramirez then gave the rifle an introduction to the young girl now holding it, arms crossed and a dull, annoyed look on his face, though thankfully hidden from her view, thanks to the Rangers Balaclava and Sawfly glasses. "American made M4A1 Assault Carbine , manufactured by Colt Defense. It's gas-operated, air-cooled, light weight, adaptable and customisable to any battle situation all of which to a soldier's personal preference. I've got the M203 Grenade Launcher and Holographic sight rigged myself for how I need it. Fires 5.55mm NATO rounds in a thirty round clip, capable of semi to full auto firing and possess a collapsible stock."

She then aims it playfully into the sky and pretends that she's about to shoot down a Neuroi. "Heh, heh, I'd like to use something like this on those Neuroi. PEW! PEW! They won't stand a chance!"

"Alright kid you've got what you wanted, now hand it back over, will ya?"

Lucchini soon becomes disappointed and cradles the Rifle in her arms like a school girl cradling her book.

"Awwww, already?"

"Come on." Ramirez says, extending his hand to receive his weapon back.

Reluctantly, Lucchini returns the young Rangers weapon, which he briefly checks over and begins to walk again, before he is blocked again by Lucchini.

"Oh, great...now what?"

"You know, you're not that bad a guy. I like you, even if you're not all that fun." Lucchini chuckles a bit as Ramirez cocks his eyebrow in confusion.

"That and you're not that big of a perv compared to that loser Corporal."

"Hey! I'm not a perv!" Ramirez insists defensively. "And what the hell makes you think like that?"

Lucchini folds her arms behind her head and puts on a bored look as she replies. "Well you were staring at Yoshika and Lynette from behind that crate, isn't that what pervs do? What did Shirly call people who watched others like that? "Voyeurs" or something?"

But then she looked up to the sky thoughtfully and she continued. "Course that's not really my style." She soon giggled mischievously as she flexed her hands. "I'd like to really get close and see for myself how big someone is. Shirley is a ten out of ten, no doubt, though Lynne isn't too bad herself."

Ramirez was soon blanched over completely. He couldn't believe that this little girl was a giant, boob groping pervert that gave Dunn a run for his money. That and he was caught eves dropping on what was apparently a huge moment of "Don't ask. Don't tell"; between two teenage girls no less. Understandably, he began to get a bit worked up.

"Christ kid who the hell are you calling a perv when you're some sort of over hyper active groper!"

"Hey, I'm just having a little fun you old stick in the mud!"

"And another thing, I'm twenty, I'm not that old."

The private rolls his eyes and shakes his head in exasperation. The situation is getting more and more difficult to deal with. _Man, this is just getting too weird._

Lucchini yawns loudly and rubs her eyes sleepily. "Oh man...I'm so sleepy. Are you tired too?"

Ramirez reluctantly nods. "Yeah, after spending a few minutes with you, I'm already feeling drained."

"Heh, heh, yeah, I've got tones of energy, but only because I sleep a lot."

"Course, trying to outrun an entire army of Russians trying to kill you with BTR's, RPG's and helicopters isn't exactly a relaxing activity either." He adds in a sarcastic deadpan.

Lucchini's face takes a look of surprised awe in the Ranger's statement. "Oh? I guess that may sound like a crazy work out."

Regardless of the friendly conversation, Ramirez still feels on edge, despite his fatigue. "Look, Lucchini. Back there, I didn't know what was going on and I'd appreciate it if you not tell anyone about what I saw, I'm already feeling pretty bad and a little weird about it as it is."

Lucchini smiles broadly and give Ramirez a thumbs up. "Heh, heh, no problem, I won't say nothing! It'll just be between you and me, okey-dokey?

Ramirez sighs and smiles in relief. "Thanks kid. I appreciate it."

"Okay...night-night." Lucchini yawns loudly again, and while her eyes slowly begin to close, she walks up to the nearest tree and climbs up to a branch to lie on. She then begins to drift off into slumber.

Ramirez stands looking at the young Romangnan witch sleeping soundly in the tree, squinting at the odd sight and scratching his head. "Wait. You're sleeping in a tree? Isn't that uncomfortable?"

But he receives no answer save that of quiet murmurs from Lucchini as she rested.

The private stands and stairs for a while longer before he yawns and slowly makes his way back to the barracks.

_Man, I'm glad she didn't ask to goof around with the AT-4, hate to think how that could have gone like. Nothing but hyperactive, pent up energy that one...but I guess she isn't all that bad._

He looks up at the moon sitting in the night sky, a feeling of regret washing over him as he pulled down his combat helmet. "Roach was right, that was a pretty damn good meal. Definitely should have gone for seconds."

...

Mio stepped into Minna's office quietly, closing the door behind her and approaching Minna's desk, where she noticed the wing commander on the telephone. Mio could see that Minna was silent as an unheard voice was speaking to her, every so often nodding in conformation, even though the person speaking to her couldn't possibly see this. Mio stood before her commanding officers desk silently, waiting to be addressed.

The conversation on the phone lasted another five minutes before Minna finally looked up from her desk and noticed Mio.

"Understood."

At which point, Minna hung up the receiver, the conversation now over. Minna massaged her temples as she sat, bent over her desk, completely drained and clearly frustrated. Mio could see that whatever transpired on the phone must have been very taxing.

"Thank you for coming Major." Minna said, finally addressing the Major and sounding exhausted.

"Sounds like things didn't go so well."

"Well...it could have been a lot worse...but of course it could have gone a bit better I think."

"What happened, Minna?"

"Well, HQ is glad that we managed to protect the sector we were charged with defending, though they we're quite vocal about letting those two unknown ground type Neuroi mess around in that sector. Course things took an odd turn when I mentioned what happened afterwards."

"What do mean by "Odd turn?" exactly?"

"When I mentioned the Rune that formed and the two spheres of light, they dismissed it at first, but then when I mentioned that we had five strange men from an alternate reality carrying strange weapons appear as a result of that phenomenon, they started taking a...unusual interest."

Mio Sakamto knew what that meant, but of course she hardly found it surprising.

"So what's going to happen?"

"Well, they have agreed to send Erica's sister, _Ursula, _to study the area, she is being sent immediately. And they will also be activating a few of the reserve witch's to help lock down the Sector that we defended, in order for Ursula to study and gather data on the area. But they have wanted that we keep those five men here on base for a while so that they can send someone to question our guests themselves."

"You mean interrogate them?"

"Hmm, that's exactly what I said." Minna stood up and moved away from her desk, though she did so slowly, as if she was drained of her energy completely. "Mio...it would be a severe betrayal of those men's trust if we do that, given what they had gone through. I've mentioned that to the people at HQ, but they won't have any of it. Still, I don't think they should be so aggressive in handling those five men."

Minna's face soon contorted into a look of uncertainty and concern. "Especially with that "Ghost" gentleman; I have...never come across a man like him before. And something about him...worries me..."

Mio also showed hints of concern, despite being straight faced. "You too huh?"

Minna turns to look directly into the gaze of her second in command. "It could be very dangerous if we betray the trust of a man like that, knowingly or otherwise. We should be sure who ever HQ sends here knows that. I can feel the atmosphere around that "Ghost". His trust was already betrayed and I know that it must anger him. If we do the same then who knows how he will react."

Mio lowers her head downwards as a shadow became cast over her eye and her eye patch. "You don't think he would...lash out at us or the girls do you? Barkhorn and I could probably take him without a problem if that's the case...but the other girls have been fighting only Neuroi, I don't think they are used to fighting another person. Do you think he could become a threat to them?"

Minna soon becomes deep in hard thought. The look she had showing a noticeably grim demeanor. But after a moment, a relived look floods her face as she sighs. "No. I think not."

Mio raises her brow in confusion. "Are you sure Minna, what makes you say that?"

"Do you remember when we we're all in the mess hall, how he spoke to Sergeant Miyafuji?"

Mio thought back to that moment in the mess hall and nodded in agreement, remembering. "Yeah, I do."

"I don't think he is the type of man to hurt young girls. So in that regard, I don't think we're in immediate danger. But I am concerned about how he would react to the person that HQ will send. Or what might happen should they decide to keep him and the others from returning to their home, or should they demand or steal their advanced weapons."

"So...what should we do then?"

Minna exhaled and turned to look out the window. The night sky was clear of clouds and full of stars, with the quietness of the base rolling from the humble fields towards and proud forests to the yawning expanse of the sea. It all looked so beautiful, so peaceful. But is all this just the calm before the storm?

"We try and do what we can to help them, and maintain their trust. Everything else is up to fate..."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It was early morning. The sun was cresting over the horizon, gently rising into the sky and shining upon the 501st Romagnan base.

Gertrude Barkhorn stirred from beneath the covers of her bed, awakening to the sunlight shining through the window adjacent to where she slept. Slowly she opened her eyes and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her hair was let down, untied and free from her black ribbons. She always rose when the sun did, as any good solider of Karlsand would. Discipline was paramount after all. The Karlsand Captain kept to sleeping in the nude, she found it refreshing waking up without being weighted down by articles of clothing. Her sleepy focus turned to her roommate sitting in the opposite side of the room, Erica Heartmann, still sleeping half way off her bed and with the covers drawn over her head.

Trude always kept her side of the room clean, tidy and well organized, always keeping her living space immaculately maintained. She prided herself on this, for it showed disciplined and she felt that it reflected well for a solider of the Fatherland. So it was understandable why whenever she cast her gaze to her room mates squalor and disorganized mess that took up the brilliant but lazy girls side of the room in huge piles that could quite possibly rival the alps frustrated Barkhorn to no end. Erica was also a solider of Karlsand, born to a country that ran on discipline, order and held high expectations of maintaining ones duty. And yet her room, her discipline, her hygiene, all of it was lacking woefully, everything running counter to what the Karlsand military had trained them in.

"Damn it, Frau." Barkhorn gave an annoyed mutter. "She can never keep her side of the room clean. It's totally unbecoming."

Throwing the covers off her body and forcing herself to try and ignore the blatant eyesore of her friend's living space, she wandered over to one of the windows in the room and looked outside.

Off in the distance she could make out the tiny dot flying in the sky that was Sanya who was returning from night patrol, no doubt yawning sleepily as she was approaching the runway. Barkhorn could tell from the way the Orussian girl was flying; in a slow, lazy manner that the girl was most likely beginning to doze off, like she always dose. Looking down towards the ground she could see Major Sakamoto training with her sword, sharpening her swordsmanship skills and making sure they stay that way. Barkhorn respected the Major, liking how the Fuso woman shared the same initiative to maintaining ones skill and focus, even in ones daily tasks. She also was thankful that Sanya was so willing to forgo a night of sleep to make sure that the sky's were safe and clear as the rest of the base slept.

Barkhorn turned to a small dresser where her ribbons, panties and mini tank top were resting, dressing into her cloths and tying up her hair before she began her daily morning ritual: One hundred one handed chin-ups.

_Better keep myself at 100% percent as well. Time to start the day._ She found the exposed ceiling beam she always worked out on and grabbed it with her right hand, keeping her left arm behind her back. Narrowing her eyes on the beam, she then began her regimen, a few light grunts escaping her each time she drew her chin up to the beam. No sooner had she reached the tenth chin up that she heard a muffled sleepy, groaning voice roll out from Erica's side of the room.

"Trrrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuuuuuude. Keep it doooooooooooowwwwn."

"Up and at em Heartmann. We've got a lot of training and a lot of work to do."

Barkhorn continued her chin ups as she spoke, managing to reach count 23.

"Can't the training and work wait, I'm still sleepy. Another ten minutes alright."

Barkhorn closed her eyes in annoyance, continuing her reps. "I don't see why your one to complain. You've had plenty of sleep and have no excuse to stay in bed. They only one I can understand going to bed at this hour is Sanya Litvyak, and that's because she's always on night patrol."

"So? What's that got to do with me sleeping?"

Barkhorn gave a frustrated sigh as she continued on with her workout, though she was beginning to speed up considerably, not taking the time to pace herself, suddenly passing count 49. Upon reaching the count of 50 she switched to her left arm, with her right arm kept behind her back. Usually, she did 100 chin ups for each arm, but she was feeling more annoyed than normal, and decided to do only 50 this morning._ I'll do the other 50 after breakfast. _She thought to herself.

"Honestly Heartmann, you're lacking in discipline! For a Karlsand solider the first rule is discipline. The Second rule is also discipline."

"And let me guess, third, fourth, fifth and sixth are also discipline? Not like I haven't heard it before." Erica's voice seemed to sleepily mock Barkhorns words. "I'm too tired for speeches Trude. Give me another 20 minutes."

Barkhorns grasp on the beam tightened; the wood creaking slightly as it strained from her iron grip. The proud Karlsand solider growled in frustration as she fiercely continued with her work out.

"First you want ten minutes, now you want 20 more? Aren't you the least bit ashamed of yourself in your lax attitude?"

There was a short pause before a muffled reply came.

"Not really."

Barkhorn could only sigh once she finally reached her 50th rep. "Some how...I just knew you were going to say that."

She was determined at first to keep her regimen well maintained, but now she was too frustrated to get up to her usual 100th rep. She need some space to cool off. Letting go of the beam, landing on her feet and stretching her arms momentarily she went over to the closet and pulled out her uniform. She quickly donned it and buttoned it up. She couldn't understand why Heartmann prided herself in being so lax when out of combat. It annoyed her greatly.

"Whatever. I'm going to go get some breakfast early this morning. I'll finish my regimen afterwards. Just don't plan on staying in bed all day. When I come back here I better see you awake and out of bed."

Barkhorn then proceeded straight to the hallway and closed the door behind her.

"Later Trude." Erica called after her.

Barkhorn shook her head and she continued down the hall. "No motivation at all."

As she was walking the hallways of the barracks, her thoughts soon wander to the events yesterday and the five new arrivals to the base. "I wonder if I should check up on those five."She soon became curious and decided on taking a quick detour. She made her way to the opposite end of the barracks, and could hear the sounds of men snoring from four of the five rooms that were assigned to the visitors from the other reality.

She peaked into the first room a moment, noticing Private Ramirez still fully dressed in his uniform and his gear lying about, with his rifle laying on the floor and the strange rocket weapon still half slung on his back. He hardly even made it into bed, his body sprawled over across the mattress, and his BDU was heavily askew. Barkhorn frowned and continued on to the adjacent room in disgust.

In the adjacent room she saw Corporal Dunn sleeping with his arms behind his head, in full gear and at rest on the covers, rifle lying next to the bed. She couldn't be entirely sure, but she thought she could hear him swearing in his sleep. _A foul mouth that one._ She thought quietly.

Moving on to the next room, she looked in to find Sergeant Foley. She noticed that the tunic of his uniform and his combat vest rested on a chair and his boots rested at the foot of his bed. His helmet was placed on a desk alongside the chair with the man's gear and weapon. She found this somewhat odd and unfamiliar. Seeing a parallel to a laidback Liberion being this organized was surprising, given the fact that the other two men shown little to no organization or care that she thought for sure that all Liberion's, and by parallel these men from the alternate Liberion known as America would all be the same. Though granted it wasn't AS organized as a Karlsander's room.

_Well...not as good as a disciplined Karlsland solider...but I suppose it's passable. Definitely better than his subordinates, that's for sure._

As she approach's the next room, she stops momentarily when she hears the sounds of a voice mumbling quietly. Leaning slowly into the door way. She found a combat uniform was neatly folded on a dresser, with combat vest, helmet, balaclava and gear placed nearby and the machinegun laying at rest in a corner of the room, along with an assortment of grenade like devices, futuristic equipment and a strange pistol laying on the night stand. She saw Roach sleeping under the covers of the bed but she could see that his sleep was anything but sound. The young Sergeant tossed and turned under his covers, talking in his sleep with distress.

"Scarecrow, watch out. Tango... right flank...heli in the air...too many. Ozone...Ghost...help...NO..."

Barkhorn watched silently as the Sergeant re-lived the nightmares of the previous day in his dreams. Calling out for fallen brothers in arms in vain, his horrid dreams filled with the sights, sounds and smells of a terrible battle, a mission that would scar the man's heart and mind. Barkhorn silently forced herself to move on from the room, feeling pity for the man and a bit of guilt in intruding.

She came upon the last room, feeling hesitant in looking in, after seeing Roach experiencing his nightmare she started to feel a bit ashamed in poking her nose in at an inopportune time. But taking a deep breath, she finally found enough strength to look into the last room, wondering what she would find the last man inside to be doing.

It was empty.

She stepped in with a quickened pace. She began wondering if the man had stepped into the closet for a moment, but found that the room had in fact been untouched. Nothing was here save for the furniture that was already present. There was no indication that the strange man, Ghost, had even entered the room either.

_Where is he? _The Karlsand Captain wondered.

She stepped back into the hallway and look down either end, trying to figure out where the man had gone. Turning down the hall to pass the empty room, she noticed a few small traces of dirt that made a partial foot print. She followed the direction in which it pointed until she came across a set of intersecting hallways. Turning around the corner she gasped in surprise, having now found her quarry.

Ghost was still dressed head to toe in his gear, resting, most likely asleep, sitting upright against the wall. But unlike the other four men, who have been asleep as if in a secure, safe area, Ghost was sleeping as though he where resting deep in enemy territory. His rifle was held firmly in his grip with both hands at the ready should someone mean him harm, and he sounded as if he was sleeping lightly.

Barkhorn could only stair in awe of the man who rested in front of her. She had heard stories of how men at the front lines would sleep like this, but she never seen it for herself. It struck her as unnerving, how even when a solider would need to live his life to kill, even while he was at rest. Every moment he would need to live each and every inch of his life ready to take the life of another, regardless of wither he slept or not. She knew that's just how it was...but Ghost seemed to raise this to a sort of terrifying art form. He was more than just a disciplined solider, or a true warrior. He was a killer. She could sense that in him.

She could hear him mumbling occasionally, but couldn't make out what he was saying. She knew it would be dangerous to awaken an armed; sleeping man like this, but for some reason, she felt compelled to speak to the man. Her curiosity was beginning to get the better of her.

She breathed deeply before she spoke. "Excuse me. Wake up!"

Ghost jerked awake, almost raising his rifle in anticipation of an attack, until he recognized the face of the person standing before him.

"Bloody hell; don't go sneaking up on me like that! Are you trying to get fucking shot?"

Barkhorn placed her hands on her hips, staring down the Lieutenant as he looked up at her groggily."Just what are you doing here? You haven't even been in your room. And your weapon..." She pointed to the rifle in Ghost's grasp. "Why do you have that with you? There isn't any need to have it on you like this."

"No offense kid, but I feel much more secure having this at hand when I need it."

Barkhorn peered intently at Ghost as he spoke, folding her arms in front of her with a stern, questioning look. "You don't think your safe here?" She asked.

"No place is safe kid, even if it seems like it." Ghost said bluntly.

"Well here you are safe, so you don't need to hold your weapon ready to shoot the first thing that moves."

Barkhorn sighed and then grabbed Ghost's arm, trying to pull the man to his feet. "Come on then, time to get up."

"Just what are you doing?" Ghost demanded, trying to resist but finding that the girl had quite a bit of strength in her.

"You'll need to eat breakfast. I'm headed to the mess hall anyways, so you can come along with me if you want." she said firmly.

Ghost shrugged, groaning as he got up. Slinging the ACR over his shoulder, he looked down at the girl. "Fine then. After you."

Following Barkhorn's lead, Ghost was lead down several corridors before reaching the doors leading outside. Stepping out of the doors of the barracks to the base grounds and noticing the hustle and bustle of personnel wandering about or working, Ghost's curiosity in regards to Barkhorn began to grow a little. Uncomfortably, he coughed, clearing his throat.

"So um... Barkhorn was it?" He asked awkwardly.

"Yes. What?"

Ghost could hear the strong, impatient tone that Barkhorns voice was taking. He sighed before he replied in deadpan. "A little bent out of shape are we? Get out on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

"It's personal. I don't want to talk about It." she replied calmly.

Ghost rolled his eyes. _Well this is going nowhere._

"Alright then how about we talk about something else?" There was a brief pause. "How long have you been in the service for?"

"Are you trying to make small talk?"

Ghost sighed. "Trying and failing apparently. I'm usually the strong silent type, but you interest me a little."

Barkhorn was silent for a while, closing her eyes thoughtfully. "I used to serve in the Luftwaffe Jagdgeschwader 52 and was in command of its 2nd fighter wing for five years before I became a part of the 501st Joint fighter wing. While I served in the Karlsland Lufwaffe, I became acquaintances with Minna and Heartmann."

"Oh, is that right? I guess the three of you have been pretty close, coming from the same country and all that?"

"Yes. Minna has really helped me a lot once our country fell to the Neuroi. She is a great leader and I have the utmost respect for her." Barkhorn rolled her eyes and lightly shook her head from side to side, recalling the earlier problem she had with Erica. "Frau however is completely haphazard in her personal life. She was a real mess when she was still a trainee under the command of Edytha Roßmann, and she hasn't had particularly rigorous training to be honest."

"Frau? You mean the Hartman girl, right?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Pretty bad huh? Guessing she isn't much help when the chips are down?"

Barkhorn stopped dead and turned to face the British man, a sudden wash of anger over taking her.

"NO, YOU'RE WRONG!"

Ghost flinched, surprised by Barkhorns sudden outburst. "Huh? Where the fuck did that come from?"

Barkhorn realized that Ghost didn't know the whole story. Of course she couldn't blame him; all she had gone on about was Erica's lax discipline and her messy living habits. She lowered her head in embarrassment.

"Sorry...I...I suppose I neglected to tell you how talented she is." Her voice became soft and reminiscent. "Her skill in combat is amazing, and her tactics in battle are brilliant. And she's stubborn, always looking at everything with a critical eye. And it's because of that critical eye that a lot of the higher ups don't like her very much. So that's why I have to protect Heartmann from that sort of trouble."

Barkhorn continued to walk, though it was at a slower pace. Ghost quickly caught up to her and was again walking parallel to her.

He nodded, understanding. "Alright, I get it now. I'm sorry if I sounded like I was cutting her down or anything."

Barkhorn looked up to the British man smiling. "Thiers no need. You didn't know. I'm sorry for getting mad like that."

"Heh, forget about It." though Ghost couldn't really feel his emotions properly, he at least managed to fake em a little bit. When he was with kids, at least he made the effort, because he wanted to. He then proceeds to ask another question. Get to know something about her personally.

"Have you got family Barkhorn?"

Barkhorn blinked in confusion. "Huh? I asked you that yesterday and you never gave me an answer."

"Weeeeelllll maybe if you tell me a little bit about your family I might tell you a little about mine." Ghost teased.

_A smooth operator this one...he definitely isn't the type to say very much until he's sure of something. _Gertrude mused.

Barkhorn sighed and closed her eyes. "The only family I have left is my little sister Chris."

"Just you and your sister? What about your folks?"

"Their dead. Chris and I lost them before the Neuroi invaded Karlsland. And our extended family didn't make it when the fighting started."

"Oh. I see."

Ghost soon became hesitant about what he should say next. _Aw geeze, I didn't know that it was something like this. How could I have known that it was only her and her kid sister left?_ He could see the saddened look painted on the girls face, and he soon started to feel...something almost akin to guilt.

"Minna, Heartmann and I helped during the evacuation, by trying to keep the skies clear of Neuroi, and the three of us fought hard against the invading forces. It wasn't an easy thing to do, but we did what we could."

Barkhorn then turned her head to face Ghost, her straight, stern faced look returning.

"Well, I told you a little bit about my family, now it's your turn Britannian."

_Putting on your poker face now then are you? _Ghost thought quietly.

"Fair enough I guess. But you sure you wanna hear it?"

"I do. It's only fair."

Once they reached the doors of the large, fort sized HQ building, Ghost held the door open for Barkhorn. Once she entered, he followed her and began speaking as they were drawing closer to the mess hall.

"Well, I had an angel of a Ma and a dead beat dad, and my brother was in a pretty rough patch for a while because of dear old pop, getting addicted to a whack load of drugs. He got clean, I made sure to that, and thankfully he found himself a wife and they had a kid and that's what kept him clean."

"By _had_ do you mean...?"

"All dead and gone."

Ghost could see the look on Barkhorn's face become horrified shock. He merely shrugged in response.

"Surly you don't mean all of them!"

"Roger."

"I don't believe it."

"Well... you wanted to know." Ghost replied matter-of-factly.

Barkhorn hesitated before she mustered the strength to ask her question.

"What happened?"

Ghost turned his head away from Barkhorns gaze, he only managed to get this story out once to strangers and even then he hid the fact it was his. He wasn't sure he was ready to tell this girl just yet. "I don't think you're ready to hear that story kid. Let's just leave what I told you at that for a while?"

Barkhorn seemed confused at first, but a look of acceptance washed over her as she nodded. "I understand. I won't press any further into the matter."

"Well, better not start the day on a low note right?"

"...I suppose not."

Upon reaching the doors to the mess hall, Ghost allows Barkhorn to enter first, following behind her as she steps through the door frame. The pair are greeted by Yoshika as she enters the mess from the kitchen, dressed in an apron and carrying several stacked trays of Miso Soup and a few bowels of rice. Upon seeing Barkhorn and Ghost enter the room, she smiles broadly and approaches the table.

"Oh good morning! Glad to see you're both awake. Lynne and I made everyone breakfast! I made a little something from Fuso and Lynne made Tea and Scones."

Yoshika placed the trays and bowls of food on the table as Lynnette also enters the mess hall, carrying the Tea and a large tray of Scones in a delicate balancing act.

"Ah, you're both awake! Please eat up; we've made plenty to go around."

Ghost looks around the mess hall to see if there was anyone else present, but apparently they seemed to be the only early risers.

"I guess everyone else is asleep then?" Ghost asks Yoshika.

"Well the major is out training, and I think Sanya is returning from night patrol, but yeah, I don't think anyone else is up just yet."

Ghost takes an empty plate, filling it with Scones before he grabs one of the cups of tea and takes a seat at the table. He lifts the bottom of his balaclava up, exposing his mouth, before grabbing one of the scones on his plate and biting into it. The explosion of flavour that went off in his mouth was unlike anything that Simon had ever experienced. His mouth soon began to water as he chewed into the tender, warm, fluffy pastry. The mixture of Zante currants and a hint of cheese flooded the British man's taste buds.

"Mmmmmm. That's pretty good."

Lynnette smiled and nodded, happy to hear that the man approved of her cooking.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it. I made sure that I cooked it just right."

"Well it defiantly shows Lynne. This is some pretty good eating here. Not very often that I get to eat a homemade Scone, much less one made this well. Don't suppose you'd give me the recipe for it?"

"Oh it wasn't much really, but I'd be glad to write the recipe out for you."

Ghost chortled a little as he raised his cup of tea, saluting the young Brittanian girl's cooking. "Thanks luv. Cheers."

Barkhorn cocked her head and pointed at Ghost. "Aren't you going to take your mask off?"

"Nope." Ghost replied simply and took a sip from his cup of tea

Barkhorn had helped herself to Yoshika's prepared meal of Miso and a bowl of rice, taking a seat beside Ghost and proceeded to eat her meal as well. Trude often enjoyed Miyafuji's cooking, whenever the young Fuso Witch made a meal, Barkhorn often made sure to have at least something that the girl made. Of course Barkhorn had grown to become fond of Yoshika, seeing as she and Chris seemed to look a lot alike. As Minna and Heartmann would have attested, Gertrude loved her sister. Probably a little more than a big sister should for her little sister. Trude knew this and was a little embarrassed about this fact, but she couldn't help it. Chris was her only family after all. She couldn't help but feel like she had to be more than a big sister to Chris.

As Trude was in her own little world and Ghost was eating, Yoshika turned to Lynne and took the Britianinan girl by the hands. A warm, loving smile painted on her face as she spoke.

"Lynne. You and I...I'm glad we both had the chance to...well..."

Lynnette giggled and pressed her forehead against Yoshika's.

"Yeah. I'm glad too." She leaned closer to the other girl and her voice dropped to a whisper as she spoke into her friend's ear. "Last night, you were so bold Yoshika. I didn't think I'd see such a side of you before."

Yoshika's face turned red as she laughed nervously. "Y-yeah. Tell you the truth; I thought the only time I'd do something like that would be in my dreams."

Lynnette giggled again. "I think I understand now what you meant that one time when you said we were "flying in formation" in your dreams". Lynne said knowingly, winking playfully and a blush crossing her face. At which Yoshika quickly became embarrassed and laughed nervously.

The two girls hands intertwined as they both looked lovingly into each other's eyes. Yoshika then pulled Lynnette back into the kitchen as the two of them laughed happily, both of them overflowing with cheerful energy, oblivious to the company that they had in the mess.

As Ghost continued finishing the Scone, he noticed the interaction between Yoshika and Lynnette and watched in silent curiosity. He noticed every movement, every expression that was made and every word that the two girls had spoken. He read these things carefully. The part that really caught his attention was when the two girls had intertwined their hands and looked each other in the eye, much like a pair of young lovers. In fact, Ghost could bet that it was exactly the case. And they both had that particular glow...

_Did those two? Don't tell me they..._

The second those explicit thoughts crossed his mind he immediately knocked them away. Ghost may have been a little fucked in the head, but there were things even he wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Course, when he tried to do so they would creep back, and he soon became distracted by the thought of what those girls had apparently done in private, during the wee hours of the night before. They didn't really bother hiding it and Ghost wished they try to at least. Ghost cursed his over analytical mind.

_Oh fuck me I should have just ignored all that shit and just ate my fucking Scone._

Barkhorn meanwhile began to put thoughts of her sister aside when she noticed that Yoshika and Lynette were acting different around each other. And she also noticed that Ghost seemed distracted, noting that the man was beginning to eat less enthusiastically.

"Something wrong?" She asked the Lieutenant of the 141.

Ghost turned to Barkhorn and gestured towards the kitchen that Yoshika and Lynne had walked into.

"Didn't you notice the behaviour of those two, Barkhorn?"

"Yes...I did notice they were acting...a little odd?"

"That's an understatement." Ghost replied sarcastically.

"I wonder what's gotten into those two."

Ghost sighs and decided he should just try and let the subject drop. Bringing it up would only serve to make things awkward. "Eh, whatever. Probably not any of our business anyways."

"Probably not."

The both continued to eat silently for a while before Ghost took a sip of his tea and studied Barkhorn from head to toe, trying to evaluate the Karlsand solider.

"I have a question."

"What?"

"You're a witch right? Yoshika has that healing magic, so what's your specialty?"

Gertrude eyed Ghost for a moment before she closed her eyes and smirked with pride. "Well I guess I can show you if you want. After we're finished with our breakfast, how about we spar?"

Ghost scoffed. "Really? You sure you want to spar Ol' Ghost?"

"You're damned right I do, Lieutenant."

Ghost placed his cup of tea on the table and got up out of his chair, pulling down the balaclava back over his mouth. He then gestured towards the door of the mess hall as he spoke.

"Alright then luv, how about now then? Show me just what a Witch can do against a solider of the 141."

Barkhorn smirked. She wanted to see this man's mettle, how strong he was. "Very well then."

As she stood up, Barkhorn noticed a figure sleepily walk into the mess. Ghost also took notice and recognized Roach as he wearily trudged his way to the table and sat down.

"Oh Roach, you're awake. How'd you sleep?"

Roach gave a tired, listless gaze to Ghost as his body swayed from side to side. "Horrible."

Roach then promptly let his head hit the table with a large thud; the sound of dishes bouncing from the impact of his forehead hitting the wooden tabletop.

Concerned, Ghost approached Roach and put a hand on his friends shoulder. "You gonna be okay mate?"

Roach slowly looked up, his chin resting on the table as he eyed the meals that Ghost and Barkhorn hadn't finished.

"You two going to eat that?"

"...no." they both replied in unison.

"If that's the case, I'll help myself."

Roach grabbed both plates and hunched over them, slowly eating the leftover food, though he seemed like he would fall back to sleep at any moment. His face was pale, his hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot red, as though the man had himself a cry for a while.

Ghost leaned forward over Roach. "You want to talk about it?"

Roach gave a heavy, shaky sigh. "How about later, what say?"

Ghost shrugged in response. "If ya say so mate. Just take it easy for a while. Barkhorn and I are going to spar for a bit."

"Oh. Well, good luck with that." Roach then gave a tired smirk as he turned to his CO. "Just don't let her mop the floor with ya, okay?"

Ghost chuckled as he messed up Roaches hair.

"I'll certainly try to avoid that Roach."

...

Sakamoto trained long and hard with Reppumaru, since way before the sun had even thought about rising to start the day. As the leaves from a nearby tree fell, leaf by leaf, she would cleanly cut them in two before they had a chance to reach the ground. She occasionally flourished the sword which she had crafted with her on two hands, testing the balance between each strike on her small targets. She had crafted Reppumaru well, the beautiful edged weapon had perfect balance, and the steel blade that she had folded over five hundred times was the strongest of any Katana thus made. Not only was it a tried and true, battle tested Neuroi killer; it was a beam cutter. Sakamoto was the first witch in history to slice through a Neuroi's beam attack.

But that meant little if anything to her. All she cared about, all she desired, was to stay a solider of Fuso for as long as what little of her magic power remained. The only way she wanted it all to end was with a bang, not a whimper. To die in battle against the enemy before her life as a witch finally ended once her magic was gone. But she intended to fight the cruel fate that was dealt to her, though she was far from being a fatalist by any stretch of the imagination. Her new strikers served to maximize what little magic power she carried and increased her flying speed. It compensated for the fact that Mio's shield was too weak to even stop a bullet fired from a pistol. And her sword, Reppumaru, served as a means to quickly cut through a Neuroi, and protect her from any beam attacks she couldn't dodge. Maximising what she had to make up for what she had lost with age.

After a while, Sakamoto's training regimen came to an end. She brought her sword in front of her, before sheathing it in the scabbard at her waist. She bowed her head as a small smile crossed her face.

"Looks like I'm still in top form...good." she murmured quietly.

As she turned on her heels, content that her skills had been sufficiently sharpened, she noticed Barkhorn and the man known as "Ghost" walking side by side, both of them seemingly boasting and gloating to each other as they walked across the tarmac. The pair then stopped before a table that rested next to the Hanger where Ghost then proceeded to lay down his rifle. Barkhorn gestured away from the table and stood facing towards the Balaclava clad Lieutenant. Ghost proceeded to stretch a little, cracking his knuckles and neck as he stood to face the Karlsand Captain, the two of them standing a couple feet from each other.

"Are those two planning on sparing?" Mio wondered quietly to herself.

She stood and watched from a distance, unsure of how things would play out. She felt some apprehension as she watched; her hand resting upon the hilt of her sword if things turned out to be more dangerous then what currently seemed to be.

...

Barkhorn was grinning broadly with excitement in her eyes. She stared intently at Ghost and planted her feet, gesturing at the Lieutenant to make his move.

"Well, come on Britianian. Let's see what you're made of."

Ghost only scoffed, before he raised his arms up parallel to the ground, the palms of his hands facing skyward as he cocked his head to the right.

"Ladies first luv, I insist."

Still grinning wildly, Barkhorns eyes narrowed on Ghost's idle form.

"If you're sure."

Barkhorn charged at the Lieutenant and tried for a right hook, which Ghost promptly dodged. She quickly followed up with a left hook that was also dodged like her first attack. She was surprised at first, not expecting to miss her target, much less missing twice. This time she tried for a quick right jab. It was too fast for Ghost to dodge and he knew it, so instead he blocked the attack, deflecting it with his left hand. Barkhorn was impressed. Ghost had very good reaction time for a mere solider. She followed up with a left hook that Ghost blocked with his right hand. Ghost could feel the girls fists connect with his hands as he intercepted her punches. He noticed that each blow she threw felt heavy for a girl of her size, but he managed to read her body language and intercepted the girl's attacks with relative ease. But he could sense somehow that while her punches had considerable weight that she was holding back in some way. As Barkhorn continued throwing punches and Ghost blocked them, he chuckled as he quipped to the young Captain.

"Are you hold'en back luv?"

"What makes you think I am holding back, Lieutenant?"

"I can read your movements; you're not putting all strength into your attacks."

He attempted to counter with a knifehand strike to her neck, but she caught his hand easily, gripping Simons hand in a firm grip.

"Huh." Ghost was surprised that Barkhorn was managing to hold her own against a grown man like him this well. But still, his gut told him that while she was pretty good at fighting, she was still holding back. He smiled from beneath his balaclava.

"I'm more than a handful for you Ghost. You're out weighed."

"Is that so?"

At that, he grabbed the Karslander's arm and twisted it around behind her back. She felt some pain as he locked it behind her body, before he shoved her away. Barkhorn turned back to Ghost, studying him for a moment in curiosity, rubbing the soreness out of her arm before she advanced towards him.

As she attempted to grapple Ghost, he brought his knee up into her lower abdomen, breaking her defences and catching her off guard. Barkhorn stumbled back as she gasped for air; Ghost quickly turned the tables and began going on the attack, making several jabs at Gertrude, while she began to shield herself from his attacks, her arms protecting her head and chest.

"That's a bit dirty don't you think?" Barkhorn spat as she defended herself from Ghost's punches.

"Well, we're both soldiers right? We gotta do anything to survive; the enemy won't go easy on us."

"True." Trude mused.

She brought her leg up and tried to kick the Lieutenant in the shin, but misses and instead places her foot squarely onto Riley's groin. Ghost groaned painfully as he stumbled back a few steps. The pain was excruciating, but he forced himself to ignore it, his hand momentarily shielding his crotch for a moment before re-adopting his combat pose, though he was noticeably a bit stiff, and his knees were bent awkwardly.

"Son of a fucking bitch, that's a low blow!"

"Wups...sorry, wrong place." Trude replied, grinning sheepishly.

"Yeah, yeah, just don't go doing that again alright?"

"Fair enough. Better defend yourself, Ghost."

Barkhorn charged at the Lieutenant of the 141. As she attempted to strike another punch at the man, Ghost shifted the weight on his feet and dodged her attack. Quickly wheeling on his feet, he got into position behind her and quickly got her in a Sleeper Hold, lifting her off the ground as he kept her restrained. Barkhorn was soon finding herself struggling to escape the man's grasp, and her airway was being constricted, her lungs being denied oxygen. Ghost kept his hold on her firmly, his arm encircling her neck. Barkhorn was gasping uselessly for air and her hands trying to loosen Ghosts grip, but his hold was firm.

"You're a bit overconfident Captain. Another thing you should remember: don't underestimate your opponent."

Barkhorn stopped struggling, and closed her eyes, concentrating. She focused on her magic strength, her Karlsand Wirehaired Pointer ears and tail appearing as her body emanated a blue glow. Ghost hesitated for but a second; unsure of just what Barkhorn was doing. Finally, Barkhorn laughed quietly as her grip tightened on Ghost's arm, capitalizing on his hesitation.

"You'll find that statement cuts both ways, Lieutenant."

With all her strength and using her magic to multiply it, she grabbed the fabric of Ghost's Tactical soft shell jacket and threw the Task Force operator with all she could muster.

Ghost yelled as he was thrown twenty feet, before heavily hitting the ground, his body sliding and rolling across the pavement. Upon finally coming to rest, Ghost groaned, his limbs, joints and back aching from hitting the tarmac.

Barkhorn panted loudly, holding her throat as air finally flowed into her lungs. She was impressed, if a little shaken. Even though she held her own without her magic until now, she was amazed that Ghost could go toe to toe with her, and that he didn't hold anything back. The few times she managed to fight a normal solder, she hardly even needed to use any magic. Even without magic to double her strength, she was fit enough physically to match most grown men in a fight hand to hand.

Ghost was one of three men she met in her life where she needed to use her strength augmentation magic to help win a fight. The first time was against a large, burly Hauptfeldwebel from Karlsand when she was still a young Feldwebel, the man sought to make trouble for both her and Hartmann. At the time, there were a small, but loud few that openly resented and made vocal their dislike for witches. The second time was to beat up Trevor Maloney's 2nd in command and just and to scare Maloney himself. For that instance, she did so because she was pissed off, seeing as the man disbanded the witches in an attempt to test the Warlock Prototype Unit.

This time was different. Though Ghost was somewhat lean and lightly muscled, he had enough strength, endurance, combat knowledge and highly tuned, quick acting reflexes to keep pace with her.

She finally managed to catch her breath and looked to where Ghost came to rest, the man laying still. She approached him and attempted to pick the poor man up.

"Are you alright Ghost, I didn't hurt you did I?"

Ghost wearily found himself to his feet. He looked at Barkhorn as he rubbed the soreness out of his limbs.

"Nothing too bad, I'll be alright. How about you?"

"I'm fine, thank you for your concern."

Ghost sighed. "Let me guess: that was your magic, am I right?"

"Yes. Strength augmentation spell. I can channel magic energy to double my strength, and it can also double the durability of my weapons too."

"Well I'm impressed."

Barkhorn smirked and she crossed her arms. "You held your own very well; you've got mettle and skill. But..."

She raised her figure and waved it at Ghost, almost in a mocking, reprimanding gesture.

"You were out matched."

Ghost rolled his eyes. "Well it didn't help at all with you kicking my fucking boy's you know."

"I suppose not. Again, I'm sorry about that, I meant to aim for your shin." She apologized.

Ghost waved off her apology. "Well at least you didn't do it on purpose, so I guess I can forgive ya for that. And I guess I've had worse than that in my life."

Barkhorn extended her hand to Ghost, with a smile on her face. "Thank you for the sparring match Lieutenant. It more than made up for my unfinished morning calisthenics."

Ghost took Barkhorns hand in his own and the two began to shake hands. "Yeah it was a hell of a workout. The feeling is mutual."

The sound of footsteps approaching and stopping next to them made the two soldiers turn to the source of the sound. Standing before them was Mio Sakamoto, eyes closed as she smiled.

"Ah, I see you both had yourselves a bit of a sparring match? That was quite a test of martial skill."

Barkhorn's face was painted with surprise as she faced the Major, her hand still shaking Ghost's hand absentmindedly. "Oh Major, good morning mamm!"

Ghost stared blankly at the sword carrying Fuso Witch as Barkhorn continued shaking his hand. "So you were watching the whole thing then, eh?"

Mio gave her signature, hearty laugh in response to Ghosts question. "That's right. Aside from myself, Captain Barkhorn is one of the best fighters in the 501st. There is neither man, witch or Neuroi that can hold out long in a fight against her."

Barkhorn's face turned a little bit red in embarrassment from the Major's praise. She soon noticed that she was still shaking Ghost's hand and quickly withdrew her grasp, hiding her hand behind her back, her face turning redder.

Ghost turned his head to Barkhorn noticing her becoming a little flustered and her face turning a light shade of red.

"Are you alright Barkhorn?"

"H-huh? What? I-I'm fine!"

Mio nodded as she chuckled. "Well then, I suppose we better start the day's routine, don't you two agree? We have a lot to do today."

Barkhorn nodded in agreement and saluted Sakamoto. "Yes mamm. A good solider always performs their duty!'

"Good to hear Barkhorn."

"Hey Sakamoto" Ghost turned to Mio as he addressed her, to witch Mio turned to hear what Ghost was about to say.

"I don't suppose you guys have a Firing range or something I can practice at?"

"Well...we sort of have something that would suffice in that area. Once I get everyone ready to start the day, I'll see what I can do."

"Alright thanks."

Barkhorn Saluted Sakamoto again as she spoke to her. "Well Major, I better go see if Heartmann is up yet. In all likely hood she isn't but I'll try and drag her out of the barracks if I have to."

Sakamoto nodded. "Very well, I'll see if any of the others are awake yet. Your dismissed Captain."

"Mamm."

With that Barkhorn turned on the balls of her feet and proceeded in the direction of the Barracks. Ghost was about to head off himself and retrieve his ACR, but before he even had the chance to take his first step; Sakamoto placed her hand on the man's chest and stopped him. She waited until Barkhorn was out of ear shot before she addressed the man. Her face had taken a look that was a stern and threatening one, though it had little effect on a man like Ghost.

"I'd like to make something crystal clear to you Lieutenant." The Majors voice spoke threateningly as her uncovered eye gazed at the British man, firmly locked on the man, staring intensely at him through his sunglasses.

Ghost was silent, so Mio continued

"The girls on this base are trained to fight Neuroi, not another human being. There are only three people on this base that are used to facing down another person, two of whom have no problem raising their hand against a human opponent. If at any point you become a threat to any of the girls, I will not hesitate to cut you down. Barkhorn will hold no reservations either, so be warned, Lieutenant."

As her hand rested on her sword, using her thumb she let the sword creep ominously out of the sheath, exposing the Ricasso of Reppumaru.

After a moments silence, Ghost scoffed as he made his way past her. He stopped a foot away from her, turning his head slightly to face her.

"No need to worry about me Major. I'd know for a fact you and Barkhorn will fuck me up and good if I tried anything, not that I planned on it anyways. Besides...I hate bastards that hurt kids."

Sakamoto turned to face the man, surprised that he was so straightforward in his answer. She thought that she managed to peg him a secretive, plotting type, so she didn't expect him to state his intentions.

"But, you know how you asked how you girls prefer to have your space? I'd like to ask for the same thing in return."

An annoyed look overtook Mio's facial features at that. _Apparently he is the secretive type...but it's strange that he was so blunt about his stance in regards to the girls._

"...very well. I'm still not sure about you, so I'm just going to keep an eye on you." Mio said at last.

"Well it's to keep your girls safe. Go ahead, as long as you don't go poking into my privacy, alright?"

Mio was silent, watching the masked man suspiciously. He was hiding something, but was unsure as of what.

"I'm off to check up on Roach. Seems the poor bastard had a rough sleep last night." With that, Ghost walked over to the table next to the hanger and retrieved his ACR, before he casually made his way to the mess hall.

...

Having just woken up Foley enters Dunns room as he pulls on his Combat Tunic, noticing Dunn resting comfortably on top the bed.

"Hey Dunn, wake up a minute will ya?"

Dunn slowly stirs and sleepily opens his eyes.

"Yeah Sarge?"

"Get up a minute, we need to talk." He stops for a moment before he asks Dunn a question. "Have you seen the Private anywhere?"

Dunn shakes his head. "Naw, I haven't."

Foley turns back to the door of the room and call's out into the hall. Thiers's a lot on his mind, and he need to talk with his men about it. "Ramirez!"

Thiers's no answer, so he yell's out the man's name a little louder. "RAMIREZ!

A groaning voice can be heard from the adjacent room in response.

"RAMIREZ, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!"

After a moment, Ramirez slowly walks out into the hall and turns to face the Sergeant. "Oh, morning Sarge. What's happening?"

Foley silently gestures for Ramirez to enter the room, which he does, though he's confused over what's going on.

Once Ramirez slowly enters Dunn's room and wipes the sleep out of his eyes, his gaze shifts between Foley and Dunn.

"So what's going on Sarge"

Dunn sits up on the bed and swings his legs over the side to face Foley. "Is something up Sean?"

Foley nods as his gaze shifts between both of his subordinates. "You both noticed those two 141 guys acting weird last night, right?"

Dunn and Ramirez exchange a brief glance towards each other as they both nod silently.

"I'm not sure what they are up to, but whatever it is, I'm thinking we keep close tabs on 'em. If what they said about Sheppard is true, then we will need to figure out just how to deal with all this..."

Ramirez gives Foley a skeptical look. "Are you sure that they are even telling the truth? I mean okay, say that Sheppard tired to kill them, don't you'd think there'd be a reason. Maybe these 141 Guys went rouge or something and Sheppard tired to take em down."

Foley turns to Ramirez and looks at the Private for a second before rolling his shoulders back in a half-assed shrug. "Maybe, we can't really confirm what their saying is true or not."

Dunn however, shakes his head. "Maybe not, but you noticed how that Ghost guy spoke to us right? Dude sounded pissed. Plus, Sheppard never cared a hell of a lot about his men. Not since that Nuke went off in Basra Iraq a few years back: Changed the guy into an asshole. I'm thinking Sheppard decided to leave those boys in the "Prima Donna Squad" twisting."

Foley nods. "Also possible, but until we are sure, we better handle this situation delicately."

Ramirez quickly interjects Dunns question. "Yeah, but why? If those two ARE on our side like they say, then why did their Task Force just get the ever living shit kicked out of em by Sheppard?"

Foley is silent for a minute, but there something about the facts that they we're told at this point by Ghost and Roach that made him curious.

"Ghost said that the name of the men under Sheppard's command when they reached their LZ was named "Shadow Company."

"Yeah? So?" Ramirez asks.

Foley turns to the Private and crosses his arms. "I've never heard of them before. Ghost gave us the description of these men, and I don't recall ever seeing soldiers like em anywhere in the service."

Dunn nods in agreement. "Yeah, same here."

Ramirez scratches his head in confusion. "What would that make em then?"

"PMC's. Merc's maybe?" Dunn thinks out loud.

"If not that it could be CIA Special Activities Division or some sort of Special Black Op's division that was formed and trained in secret so no one will know about them." Foley adds. "Though for the life of me, I can't figure out where Sheppard can get men like this in such short notice, assuming he hadn't had them for a while that is."

Dunn sighs audibly. "Well however Sheppard got these guys, if those two Task Force guys are telling the truth, then what?"

Foley, shaking his head solemnly, replies to his 2IC with a hint of uncertainty on his face. "I dunno. I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Ghost lead Roach through the corridors of the base, occasionally stopping and checking a few rooms before continuing on. Roach was tired, yawning frequently as he trudged behind the Lieutenant, the two men finishing their search on the first and second floors. Roach could hardly keep his eyes open. After a half hour of following his Lt in what seemed to be an aimless tour, he groaned audibly. While the base interior looked nice enough, he was too tried to care much. Had he a better sleep the night before, it would have been a different story.

"Ghost?"

"Yeah Roach?"

Ghost was still looking straight ahead of himself, too busy and focused on looking around the base and in the rooms he came across.

"What the hell are we doing?"

"We're looking for something mate."

Roach mopped his face before responding, trying to massage feeling into his face, though his joints and muscles felt stiff and unresponsive, probably because he felt so damn tired.

"And just what the fuck are we looking for?"

"Something that will help us, hopefully."

Roach wearily tried to stare at the back of Ghost's head. He always had a hard time with Ghost's tendency of speaking cryptically, that is if he even spoke at all. He never could understand why Ghost needed to have as many secrets as he did. That and the Lieutenant trusted very few people. But often Roach often wondered why Ghost felt the need to keep his friends in the dark as well. The younger man rolled his eyes.

"Can you get anymore fucking cryptic sir? What do you hope to find that will help us?"

Ghost continued searching quietly, leaning into the door frame of a room momentarily before leaning back out again just as quick, continuing down the hall with his quickened pace. The British man's search brings him to a flight of stairs.

"Let's try up here Sergeant."

"Right, whatever." Roach's reply is that of a tried, apathetic tone.

Ghost stops and looks back at Roach. "I know I already asked, but are you doing alright Roach?"

Roach shakes his head as he leans up against the wall of the hallway.

"No sir, I don't."

Ghost turns to face Roach, clearly seeing that something is bothering his subordinate. Not only was Roach his squad mate and friend, but also his subordinate. Part of Ghost's job was to attend to the needs of his squad. And right now, Roach was having problems that needed to be addressed.

"Ya want to talk about it mate?"

Roach takes a deep, shaky breath, rubbing his eyes of sleep that had built up. Roach is silent for a moment before he takes a shaky, heavy breath as he sighs.

"Bad dreams Lieutenant..."

"Nightmares?"

Scarecrow and Ozone were two of Roaches pals in the 141, and always had each other's back during missions in the field. Scarecrow was the squad book worm, always reading novels that Roach have never even heard of. Ozone meanwhile was a B-boy, loved hip-hop and playing loud music off duty while he danced to the rhythm. They were his friends. Their deaths haunted him to no end.

He nods affirmative and continues.

"Kept seeing Scarecrow and Ozone...kept seeing them getting killed over and over again... I get swarmed by _Makarov_'s men. I try running to the LZ and I think I'm goanna make it..."

Roach hesitates before he finally try's to finish explaining to Ghost the last thing that was bothering him, something that filled the young man with fear that morning, startling him awake from his nightmares of war and death.

"...and then Sheppard fucking kills me."

Ghost approaches Roach and puts his hand on his shoulder, understanding the Sergeant's feelings all too well.

"I know where you're coming from mate. I know it's easy for me to say this, but you just gotta move on from all that. The nightmares will pass, just give it time alright?"

Roach looks up to Ghost with a tired questioning look on his face. "You think?'

Ghost nods and pats Roaches shoulder before turning around and heading up the stairs. Roach slowly follows after him.

"Well, okay Ghost, if you say so." Still, Ghost's talk didn't really help Sanderson feel much better. He still felt like crap.

"Damn right I say so."

After climbing up the stairs to the next floor, Ghost checks into the doorways lining the hall. He does this for three minutes before he comes across a heavily built door with a small sign mounted on it which read: "War Room."

"Jackpot."

Ghost slowly opens the door and peeks inside; checking to see if the room was currently in use. From what he could see, there were a few tables with maps on them with occasional documents, and strange computer monitors and screens inside. Thankfully the room was devoid of any people. Now knowing the coast was clear, Ghost entered the room with Roach following suite. Once inside, Ghost goes over to one of the strangely designed computer terminals and gives it the once over, before he turns and motions Roach over.

"Roach, come 'ere would you?"

"What's up?"

Ghost points to the computer system he's standing in front of as he replys.

"Take a look at this and tell me if you can hook the DSM up to it."

Roach looks at the computer system sceptically at first, though after looking over the consol, his face begins to look less grim.

"I dunno. I might, but to be honest, I'm not sure if the DSM will be compatible with this sort of tech. From what I can tell, whatever sort of wires these are might not be able to jack into the DSM, but there might be something laying around here that could work. But unless I figure that out, I'm not sure about getting a hard line set up. And I'm not sure a remote link would be compatible with this system either, assuming the wireless antenna isn't broken. Unless it dose or until I figure out a remote hard line to access the Intel on the module-"

"Then we've got no way into that Module, is that what you're telling me Roach?"

"Well I can sure try, but I can't promise ya anything Lieutenant."

Upon saying that Roach digs the DSM out of his gear and places it on the table.

"Well you better figure something out Sergeant. Before we find ourselves a way back home, we're going to find out just what the hell we were sent to get a hold of. Sheppard was willing to send us into the meat grinder to get that Intel, and clearly he wants' no one else's eyes on it." Ghost scoffs before he continues on. "Bastard was even willing to kill us to keep it out of our hands I reckon. Only question is why."

Roach nods in response. Quickly he approached the Computer Terminal and began typing, his hands gliding across the keyboard and his fingers tapping each key rhythmically. The computer monitor in front of him gave off a dull glow as the Sergeant worked at the terminal. After several minutes of searching through the computers operating system, he finally finds something akin to a crude type of wireless connection.

"Hrm...maybe this will work?"

As Roach begins trying to set up a link with the DSM remotely, Ghost approaches and leans over Roaches shoulder, his right hand resting on the table and his left on the back of the chair that Roach sat in. Roach attempts to establish a wireless link between computer and DSM. A small prompt appears on the computer monitor, which Roach reads out loud:

"Please select device." Roach nodded, "Okay then, so far so good."

...

Barkhorn was walking down the halls as Erica sleepily followed behind her, while the Karlsland Captains arms were crossed and Erica yawning as she walked. Waking up Erica was a chore, and after minutes of trying, it wasn't until Gertrude mentioned promises of chocolate that the blond haired girl promptly awoke from her sleep. Save for Neuroi attacks, it was the only thing that would raise the younger Karlslander from her sleep, much to Gertrude's chagrin. But by now, the older Karlslander was willing to let Heartmann's lax living habits slide for now.

"About time you got out of bed. We have work to do and it's going to be time for our briefing."

"You said that you had chocolate for me Trude, so come on already..."

"I'll get some for you later alright. Right now you better get your priorities straight."

Heartmann's disappointment was clearly written on her face, and she let Gertrude know it.

"You tricked me, didn't you Trude?"

"Well, you didn't give me any choice, now did you Flying Officer Heartmann?"

Before Erica could protest, she and Barkhorn noticed Major Sakamoto and Perrine walking side by side. Perrine stood closely to Sakamoto, almost fawning over her and walking as if in a giddy daze, though Sakamoto seemed to be oblivious to this. Upon seeing Gertrude and Erica however, Perrine quickly snapped into a more professional posture and any look of infatuation disappeared immediately.

"Captain Barkhorn. Lieutenant Heartmann."

Sakamoto smirked as she saw Erica trailing behind Gertrude with a clear look of disappointment on her face.

"Ah, glad to see the Captain finally got you awake Flying Officer Heartmann."

"Yeah, Trude tricked me into thinking she had chocolate. I should have known better then to fall for that. I don't know why I do; I'd much rather be back in bed."

Perrine frowned. "You mean you'd rather sleep in then do anything productive? Isn't that a bit lazy?"

Gertrude shook her head as she sighed. "Tell me about it. She's been trying to guilt me for tricking her into waking her up. It's astonishing that she's working so hard to do nothing... It's mind boggling! Imagine if she put all that energy into cleaning her room; then that would be the biggest highlight of the war."

Erica smiled coyly after Barkhorn's statement. "At least I work hard at something..."

Sakamoto turned her gaze to Barkhorn as she began to address the Karlsland Captain.

"Barkhorn, I left the duty roster back in the War Room. I'd appreciate it if you retrieved it for me; I'm currently headed to meet up with Minna and the others in the briefing room, and I'm needed their immediately."

Gertrude nodded in response. "Understood mamm."

Mio's face showed a hint or two of what seemed to be apprehension, though it was only barley readable.

"And if you see any of our "guests", do keep your wits about you when you're around them."

"Mamm?"

"Just to be safe..."

Gertrude nodded without another word and hustled off to retrieve the duty roster.

Perrine soon became concerned and turned to Mio, the tone of her voice not hiding her feelings. "Major, did something bad happen between you and those five men?"

"Huh? No, nothing bad happened Perrine."

Perrine Crossed her arms and turned her head upwards in her aristocratic Gallian posture.

"I'm still not sure I like having those strange men on base with us. For all we know they could be dangerous, unsavoury types."

Erica shrugged as she smirked. "They don't seem that bad to me. Weird maybe, but I really don't think their anything to get worked up over." She did pause as she looked up to the ceiling thoughtfully. "Though Ghost did strike me as a little bit...what's the best word? Creepy?"

Sakamoto began to make her way to the Briefing room. "That's not all he is." Sakamoto mused.

Both Erica and Perrine blinked in confusion.

"Huh?"

The two girls quickly caught up to the major and followed her as they made their way to the Briefing room.

...

Ramirez stared down the Holographic sight of his M4A1 at his target. His breath was slow and calm and his hands were steady. The paper target he aimed at stood down range 200ft away and thus far the Private had fired six rounds into it. While he at least hit his target, his groupings were all over the place. He needed to improve his accuracy. After inhaling a fifth time, he exhales and depresses the trigger.

The M4A1 discharges. The round punches a hole into the target. Depressing the trigger again another five times, five more rounds appear on the silhouette downrange. The groupings are a little bit closer together near the center on his last three rounds.

He's improving, if slowly.

Dunn stands next to his right side with a pair of binoculars, acting as a range spotter for the private and gauging the younger mans progress.

"Those last three were a bit better that time dude. You're starting to hit the sweet spot, now you just need to be consistent."

Ramirez nods. "Roger."

Ramirez depresses the trigger three more times, the groupings slowly but surely improving and his rounds creeping closer to the center. Between each firing cycle, the Private kept thinking about what was happening back home, and constantly he wondered how he would get back to both his country and his family. He was stuck in this strange new world with the three Rangers that took him under their wing to teach him and to watch his back; the new guy.

Ramirez came from a large family and grew up on the rougher side of L.A. His ma was a hard core catholic, and she often insisted the family prayed every night before bedding down, and also made everyone say grace before meals. His brothers and sister had to grow up in a tough neighbourhood, where gangs, dealers of drugs and guns and all sorts of lowlifes lurked. Violence on the streets was a daily occurrence. But the clan Ramirez constantly sought to make a better life for themselves, instead of letting bad times drag them down. James could remember clearly the day he, one of the younger of the Ramirez kids, joined military service and applied to be a Ranger. He thought back to his father's words, when he was first shipped out from back home to go for Ranger training: _"Do your best my son, do your family proud. And for god sake, please come back in one peace."_

Ramirez chuckled quietly as he remembered his old man's words playing in his head. His father always managed to find a quick witted quip in even the most serious of situations. He wondered what he would think if he ever got back and told his family about what he was experiencing now. Probably wouldn't believe him, he figured.

From behind Ramirez and Dunn, Foley silently stands idle. His mind is constantly picking apart the reasons to the events that have been playing out, trying to piece together the ever constant puzzle presented to him. Uneasy feelings constantly settle in his gut. The world that Foley had lived and served in was on the brink of a global war. Death was starting to become a ever growing occurrence, and the question of who was the one responsible for beginning all of this started to stand out the most as a question, but the answer to that question, while it remained elusive, seemed like it was slowly turning more ominous. Almost as if every event; the attack on Zakhaev International Airport, the death of PFC Joseph Allen, the Russian invasion of America and the launch of an Intercontinental ballistic missile detonating over the Eastern Seaboard, and now he meets two members of Task Force 141, and _they_ give him more pieces of the puzzle, and it all seemed like everything was all part of some grand, intricate conspiracy. Though whether what the two men from the 141 said was truth or not, or wither any or all of this was a conspiracy or just happenstance has yet to be determined.

Still, the Sergeant was suspicious.

There are several possible catalysts for starting all of this: The death of 30,000 US Military personnel five years ago, Zakhaev's attempts at attacking the Western world, many other possible contributing factors. But who was the mastermind that gave the entire world that one final push, off the edge of the cliff and into the brink, as it were.

Who was the guilty party?

The more Foley thought of it, the more his mind spiralled. Something kept bringing him back to Makarov and Sheppard, as if there was some sort of connection, one hidden from the surface, one that hid itself among the obvious. Something that stuck out in his mind was the "Shadow Company" that Ghost and Roach had seen and barley escaped; a unit that Sheppard had that was not seen or heard of before.

Why would Sheppard have such a unit under his command? Was it to take down Makarov? But he had the 141 to do that. If that was the case why would he need this second unit that even the task force wasn't aware of? Unless Sheppard thought the Task Force would go rouge and betray him. But with the few conversations between the Ranger and the two members of the task force, he couldn't really see that happening. Questions like this and similar to this pounded heavily in Foley's skull. Nothing was adding up, at least not to anything good.

The sound of an aircraft approaching overhead interrupts Foley's whirlwind of thoughts. He looks skyward, noticing a C-47 Skytrain flying low, seemingly preparing to land. Dunn and Ramirez also notice the aircraft, pausing to look up as it slowly began its descent.

"Looks like we have some company." Foley noted.

Dunn cocks his head to one side with a quizzical look on his face. "Apparently."

"You two boys wanna go and play the role of welcoming committee?"

Both Dunn and Ramirez look at each other before they both finally shrug, Ramirez setting his weapon to "safe" and slinging it over his back, and Dunn grabbing his own weapon from a nearby table.

The three men disembark from the range and eventually find their way to the landing strip. Upon finding the runway, the can see the C-47 taxiing off and slowly coming to rest. Once the engines on the aircraft died down, the three rangers noticed a girl step out of the aircraft with a briefcase in each hand and wearing a white lab coat and glasses. What's more, she was a clear dead ringer of Erica.

Ramirez gestured to the new arrival as he spoke to Dunn.

"Hey, that kid looks a lot like that Erica girl, does that mean-"

"Identical twins dude. Now that's pretty cool."

The girl who appeared to be Erica's twin sister calmly took in her surroundings, once her eyes rested upon the three rangers she slowly approaches them as a few men, who appeared to be lab technicians, also exited the aircraft, carrying lab equipment and strange machines that seemed to be scanning devices of some sort. The girl approached the three men and stopped before them, looking up to see eye to eye.

"Hello, you must be the visitors from the other reality."

Foley looked down at the young girl before him, the corner of his mouth shifting slightly.

"Well, three of them anyway... you must be-"

"Ursula Heartmann, engineer of the Neue Karlsland Technisch Ministerium and former member of the 507JFW Suomus Misfits Squadron. I'm assuming you've met my sister."

Foley extends his hand, in which Ursula places one of her suitcases on the ground and extends her own, the both of them shaking hands as a result.

"Yes we have. It's a pleasure miss."

"Not at all, the pleasures mine."

Once both of them finish greeting each other, Dunn leans forward slightly and address the young witch engineer.

"So...you think you might be able to find us a way back home, kid?"

Ursula turns to the corporal with a straight face, and a sharp glare. "I'm a Flying Officer you know. I had to work hard to earn my rank."

Dunn blinks in surprise. "S-sorry, I'm still not used to...well, this entire sort of stuff. You know, with young people like you in uniform." Course Dunn used the term "Uniform" loosely.

Ursula nods with some understanding. "Yes, I've heard that there are no witches or Neuroi where you're from. I can't really imagine such a world myself." Her face turns somewhat reminiscent as she picks up the suite case she put down. "But I can understand the desire to return to the place you've once called home. All Karlslanders know this feeling."

Foley and his two fellow rangers remember the stories that the 501st have told them about Karlsland falling to those Neuroi things. They weren't sure what these invaders were but from what the three rangers have heard, they sounded like though customers. And because of their attacks and advance, it left these people without homes or family. In this world, humanity was in a struggle against facing Armageddon from an unknown enemy.

Course, Foley wondered if facing a global war with your fellow man was any better a prospect.

Ursula spoke to Foley with decisive resolve. "So, I will do everything in my power to find a way for you back home to your world. I will need to study the area in question first for data and see what I can learn about it. Once I do that; I might be able to work out something."

"Thank you." Foley gestured to the suitcases that Ursula carried. "Do you need a hand with those, Lieutenant?"

Ursula shook her head. "I'm fine, but thank you. My colleagues and I must prepare to get to the sector in question immediately and set up our equipment. Members of the 78th reserve witches provided my craft with escort before returning to continue with securing the location with the rest of their unit."

One of the lab tech's, carrying a clipboard, was about to exit the plane with the others when the aircrafts pilot called him to the cockpit. Ursula and the three rangers silently watched, wondering what was going on. The Lab tech that had yet to disembark from the transport craft finally did so after a few minutes, but he clearly had a worried look written all over him. He approaches Ursula and whispers into her ear, using his clipboard as a screen. Ursula's eyes widen a bit as her colleague whispered something to her, until she finally addressed the three rangers.

"I must go. I have a lot of work ahead of me."

She walked off abruptly, with most of the lab techs following close behind her.

Foley turns to Dunn and Ramirez in confusion, before he addresses the Lab Tech that spoke to Ursula.

"What the hell was all that about? What did you tell her?"

The lab tech looks uncomfortable under Foleys hard gaze. After seemingly fidgeting for a while, he glances to his left and his right before finally speaking.

"You guys better pray to god if I was you..."

Dunn frowns and narrows his eyes on the lab tech. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is that a threat?"

Fearfully, the lab tech shakes his head vigorously. "N-not at all! I'm warning you guys!"

"About what?" Foley asks.

"We heard rumours while in route, but the pilot just confirmed it just now. HQ is sending..."

The lab tech pauses, and then sighs heavily. "Sending him of all people, thought he'd be drummed out of the military for...look, you're going to be meeting him in time, so...just be careful."

Ramirez crosses his arms indignantly. "Who are we meeting? Who are you fucking talking about?"

The Lab tech grimaced. "Trust me...you'll know when you see him..."

With that, the lab tech abruptly takes his leave, the rangers left feeling an uneasy dread. The three men cast glances amongst each other. At last Dunn exhales with a look of dull annoyance crossing his features.

"Well, that was one hell of a pep talk. We should probably invite these guys for a party or something Sarge."

...

Ghost continues to watch Roach as the young Task Force Sergeant is working furiously at the computer terminal. The two men notice sound of an aircraft entering the airspace and landing on the bases runway, but both operators ignore it, devoting their full attention to the task at hand. After a few moments a command prompt appears on terminals screen.

Roach frowns. "Shit."

"Roach? What the fuck is going on?"

"Password."

"What?"

"I need a password."

Thiers a moment of silence as Ghost stairs at the computer screen over Roaches' shoulder.

"You've GOT to be kidding me."

"I wish I was sir, but I'm not. We're going to need a password to access the Intel."

Ghost sighs. "I know I should be surprised, but really I'm not. Should have figured Sheppard would go though the trouble of doing something as extreme as this. Whatever is on this thing, obviously he REALLY didn't want anybody taking a gander at it."

Roach turns to Ghost with a questioning look.

"So now what?"

"Figure out the password."

"You know that isn't going to be easy, right?"

"Just... figure out the password Roach."

"Okay, alright. Let's see...what's a good pass word that Sheppard would use?"

A few moments of silence go by as Roach sits in his chair thoughtfully with his hands hovering over the keyboard. Ghost stands over Roach's shoulder as Roach sits motionless. Finally Ghost groans loudly.

"Well?"

"Hang on."

"While I'm still young here, Roach."

"Just let me think for a sec..."

Another few seconds go by before Roach inputs a possible password, one that Sheppard would possibly use, the Sergeants hands moving briskly from key to key. But upon hitting enter; a prompt appears indicating that the password was incorrect. Roach's face falls flat.

"Damn. That isn't it. It's not his birthday."

"Try again mate."

Tilting his head, Roach goes back to work trying another password. The same result occurring upon hitting the enter key.

Roach squints at the screen. "Humph. Thought his middle name would be that one this time."

"Giver another go, mate."

Roach nods and cracks his knuckles. "Welp, looks like an all nighter Lieutenant. Think you can grab me a cup of coffee while I try and crack this bastard."

Ghost gives a quick laugh and pats the Sergeants shoulder. "I'll get you a cup once you figure this out alright?"

"Man, you're a cold mother fucker sir."

"Well I ain't no Charlie Fucking Dickens if that's what you've been thinking."

Roach quickly types every password configuration he can think of, but each and every time, the prompt appears. As the younger man struggles on the computer with the DSM, Ghost takes a moment to study the contents of a nearby desk, his curiosity getting the better of him. Sifting through maps and reports, he eventually comes across a Clipboard lying on the table top. He picks it up and reads through it a little, discovering that it's a duty roster. On it were the names of the witches and several secondary personnel.

_Hrm...quite a few people here, including the girls. I wonder if Roach is right about us asking help of at least one of these young ladies...but then, who should we ask it from? I'm not sure how we're going to make this work, but I'll be damned if I just sit on my arse and do nothing. Sheppard fuckin used us and I'm going to find out what that sod is up to. Christ, it's exactly like that time Major Vernon pulled that bollocks back in Mexico. Just another god damned sell-out yank I haveta deal with. _Ghost sighs mentally as he continues going over his thoughts. _That seems to be a running theme with me. I've REALLY got to be careful of any Americans I meet in the future. I swear; every single yank I meet is dodgy... _

After skimming through each page, he sets the clip board back on the table top. As he does so, the door to the room swings open. The heads of the two men immediately snap to the door with Ghost reaching for his holstered G18 pistol. Roach bolts upright and knocks the chair he was just sitting in over with his hand hovering over his M9 Pistol. Both men moved blindingly by instinct. Combat discipline was number one to Task Force Operators. How appropriate it was at that moment when they both recognized the face of one of Kalsland's most disciplined witches. Barkhorn stood in the door frame, her eyes wide with surprise and completely frozen in place. Upon seeing Barkhorn in the doorway, both men also freeze. Roaches eyes are as wide as dinner plates, and his jaw slackens. Ghost however, forces his hand to not draw his sidearm, his eyes, while containing evident surprise, still carry a cold and intense look.

Barkhorns face contorts into a look of suspicious rage as she grits her teeth. "What the hell are you both doing in here? !"

Ghost raises his left hand with his palm facing the Kalsland Captain, his right hand still holding the grip of his G18, but still not drawing it. Lieutenant "Ghost" Riley takes a cautious step towards Barkhorn.

"Easy love, take it easy."

"You're doing something in here! Don't try and tell me otherwise, what are you both up to? !"

Roach points between himself and Ghost nervously. "We can explain this; just take a chill pill for a second."

Gertrude's eyes snap to Roach, and she almost seems to bore a hole with her eyes into the young man, causing a shiver to run up and down his spine. "What the HELL are you doing on that terminal? !"

Ghost takes yet another cautious step forwards toward Barkhorn.

"Just try and stay calm and hear us out a minute, alright?"

Barkhorn shifts her gaze back to the Lieutenant and narrows her eyes on him, her right hand making a tightly balled fist in warning.

"Hear you out? What possible reason could you two men have for being here without anybody's knowledge and engaging in suspicious activity?"

Ghost locks eyes with her and slowly removes his hand from his holstered machine pistol and raises his hand in a non threatening manner. He's not sure why, but his gut is telling him to go this route. He begins to speak very deliberately.

"We needed a computer Barkhorn. We need to gain access of a device in our possession called a DSM, or Data Sycroniss Module. It has important data we needed linked up to a computer on our last mission, had downloaded onto the module and now need to access the information stored on it. We needed to do this without anyone knowing about it, in order for us to stay alive. That's why we snuck around the base and found ourselves a room that had what was required to at least meet our needs. That's why we are in here."

Though Roach pauses momentarily to look at Ghost with some surprise he nods and points at the Module resting next to the computer monitor. "That's the DSM, there."

Barkhorn follows Roaches pointing figure before she growls in frustration.

"If you needed help, you could have told someone you know."

Ghost shakes his head negative. "Couldn't afford to Captain; Roach and I lived in a dangerous world. Stealth, silence and discipline are required to stay alive for men in our field of work."

Upon hearing the word "Discipline" enter her ears, Barkhorn then understood, her face becoming straight and calm. Barhorn championed discipline in one's life for everything they do, and while the two figures before her had come from a strange and different world, governed by different laws and possessing people of a contrastingly different mindset and outlook, she saw that they were doing so as disciplined, professional soldiers of their world.

"That's what you've been doing?"

Roach and Ghost nod affirmative to the young Karlslander. Ghost motioned for Gertrude to come forward, to which she complied, closing the door behind her before doing so. Once she stands close to Ghost, he meets her at eye level.

"Listen Barkhorn...I need to ask you something, if I may."

Barkhorn blinks. "What is it that you need to ask?"

"Roach and I need your help. I wasn't sure if I could ask anyone here on this base, but, I can tell just by looking at you, Captain. Out of every girl in the 501st, YOU'RE the soldier in this base."

Barkhorn becomes surprised by Ghost's words. Technically the girls were all soldiers to one degree or another. Gertrude always believed this to be so. But she was confused about why Ghost said that she herself was THE soldier of the 501st. What could he possibly mean by saying such a thing?

"What do you mean by that? We witches are all soldiers of our homelands, and we are standing the frontline to defend this world from the Neuroi. Why do you say that I'm better than the others?" Barkhon soon becomes frustrated and it shows. "Major Sakamoto is a warrior of Fuso, a master of the sword and a fearless combatant. Minna is our wing commander and she worked long and hard to earn her position as our leader, and I'd follow her into the pits of hell and back with her at our lead. So why is that you say that I'm the only one you can trust?"

"Because, while all that may be true, Sakamoto is a warrior, a good one, but there is a difference between "warrior" and "soldier". The mindsets are different, and so are the philosophies, there's too much friction between people like me to work with people like her this way, doesn't help she doesn't trust me. And Minna Wilcke is your CO. That means that she is a ranking officer or "brass", therefore she will need to report anything and everything to those higher in the chain of command. I don't blame her for that, it's her job, but I can't afford to risk trusting her to keep things confidential. So as one soldier to another, I need you to help us. And please Captain. Tell no one: not your fellow witches, not the base personnel, and DEFINATLY not those three Rangers."

Gertrude found this a lot to take in. She was a little hurt that Ghost couldn't put his trust in her fellow witches like she did. She trusted them with her life. But then... the reasons he gave were reasonable ones that made sense. A soldier in his position by just asking her such things would be big enough of a gamble for him, so for Ghost to be willing to ask her both for her help and her discretion specifically even if the circumstances were by chance was considerably steep. And if the positions were reversed, she could probably see herself doing the same as he was. The only thing she found curious was the fact that he wanted to keep things secret the alternate Liberion's known as the "American Rangers". From what she understood from what little was told of the world Ghost, Roach and the Rangers were from, she thought that they were both allies. So why keep secrets from those you call "friend"? Unless there was more going on then was initially explained...

"Very well... I will help you but may I ask you a question?"

Ghost nodded, to which Barkhorn continued.

"The three Rangers; is there a reason why you'd want to keep them in the dark? I thought both your nation and theirs work together."

Roach silently gulps and makes a sideways glace at the Lieutenant, wondering how Ghost will reply.

Ghost scoffs and rubs his neck, his eyes turned upwards at the ceiling.

"Let's just say that Americans and I don't get off so well. I've had a lot of bad experiences with yanks, so the little they know and until I get a handle on them, the better."

After a moment of silence, Gertrude finally nods.

"Alright Lieutenant, you have my word as a soldier of Kalsland. I'll help you."

Ghost smiles through his balaclava; glad to hear that he and Roach now have someone who they could even remotely trust.

"Thank you, Captain."

Ghost stands and turns to Roach.

"Well Sergeant, we've got a lot of work ahead so get cracking."

"Roger tha-"

Before Roach could finish, a loud alarm, an air raid siren, blares throughout the base. Ghost and Roaches heads swivel around the room quickly. Roach covers his ears, trying to block out the loud blaring sound.

"THE FUCK IS THAT? !"

Ghost's eyes turn to the window outside, noticing base personnel running about.

"An alarm? Does that mean-"

Barkhorn's eyes become fierce as she turns to the two men, whose trust she has just earned by pledging her hand to aid them.

"It's an attack! It's the Neuroi!"

* * *

><p><strong>A bit of an author's note here. I'd like to take some time to thank everyone who's been reading up to this point so far and I'm sorry if I've been taking so long. I'll certainly try and keep this going, granted it was a bit of a slow start to begin with, but now I hope to get a bit of steam. <strong>

**The next chapter will be interesting, seeing as the boys from MW2 will be facing the Neuroi, something that they won't be used to fighting, providing they can even fight Neuroi at all. The Strike Witches light Novels, often show conventional military fighting alongside witches, so it will be amusing to see how soldiers from another world will react in combat with black and red beam spamming aliens.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Really quickly for all old readers and even some new readers that their has been a small revision to this chapter: I have ret-coned the Rank of Clotilda Marwick from Lieutenant to Captain, seeing as it wouldn't make much sense regarding how a Witch Lieutenant could be allowed to lead this many witches into battle. A witch at the rank of Captain leading this many witches, while uncommon, would be more plausible as well as editing the total roster of the 78th Tame Witches.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 11<p>

The base is in an uproar as personnel scramble to their posts at the sound of the Air-raid. Soldiers double-time to their combat positions along the edges of the wall and on artillery and flack cannons. Non-combat personal scramble to any sort of building that could provide shelter. As people run about, the Rangers stand idle, looking around themselves in confusion as the people of this world are scrambling to prepare for an attack by an enemy that is feared and foreign.

Once the eye's of the Rangers fall upon the motor pool they see Ursula and her lab colleges loading their equipment into large 6X6 trucks. At one point, a solider approaches them and appears to be trying to yell over the sound of the alarm, but Ursula seems to disregard what the soldier is saying, seemingly trying to dismiss him, until finally the man throws his hands up and runs in the direction of the rangers. Once he gets close enough, Foley grabs the man's arm and try's to speak to him.

"Hey trooper, what's happening here?"

"Who the hell are you guys?"

"Sergeant Foley, 75th Ranger Regiment. What where you saying to Ursula Heartmann back their?"

"Rangers?" The soldier seems surprised, eyeing Foley and his men up and down for a moment. "You're the weirdest fucking ranger I've ever laid eyes on."

"You mind answering my question?"

The solider looks behind his shoulder at the young witch from Neu Karlsland as he explains. "Asked her what the hell she and those other lab techs were doing and she says that they're headed to the Sector that the 78th Reserve Witches have secured. Then I asked her if they were crazy and she just tells me that it's none of my concern and I should get to my post. After that I gave up."

Dunn frowned. "They're headed out into the suck like that? Christ, they are going to get themselves killed!"

"If their fool enough to go gallivanting off into danger then let em, I'm getting to my post."

With that, the soldier ran past the three rangers. After watching him for a moment, the rangers exchange glances amongst each other. Foley's face is determined looking, with Dunn and Ramirez becoming accepting of what their Sergeant is about to order them to do.

"Well boys, he may be content with staying here and letting those lab techs march off by themselves. But Rangers lead the way. Let's find ourselves a truck."

Dunn nods. "Hooah sarge."

Ramirez pats the AT4 on his back with one hand and hefts up his M4A1 in the other. "I'm all geared up anyways. May as well give these guys a hand, right?"

Foley then barked to the two Rangers. "So stop talken about it and get moving. RAMIREZ! Help Corporal Dunn secure a truck, Hooah!"

At that, the three Rangers double time to the motor pool.

* * *

><p>Ghost and Roach followed Barkhorn as she ran to the hanger, both men at full stride to keep pace behind her. Roaches M240 rattled on his back as the links of 7.62mm ammunition clinked against each other. What was left of both men's ammo and gear they carried on them, ready to act and prepared to fight if need be. The trio passed several personnel as they did so, eyes turned curiously at the two men who followed the Karlsland ace. Upon entering the hanger, Ghost and Roach watch as Gertrude runs up to the Striker Docking bay and don her Striker Unit. Popping out at either side of the docking unit on an extending mechanism adjacent to the Striker is a pair of MG42's that Gertrude reaches for. Roach stairs in complete awe of the girl, amazed that she can carry both MG42 Machineguns in either hand loaded with full saddle magazines as if they weighed nothing at all.<p>

"Whoa. How the hell can she do that?"

Ghost replies in deadpan. "It's magic Roach."

Both men notice some of the other witches either already in their Strikers or preparing to don them. Sakamoto notices both Task Force operators, and frowns.

"We don't have much time. The Neuroi have begun assailing the Sector that the Reserve Witches of the 78th have secured. The 78th are currently holding but only just. They aren't used to live combat, so they will need us for support."

Barkhorn turned to Sakamoto as Perrine, Erica, Yoshika and Lynette got ready to sortie. "How many of the enemy will we be facing?"

"About Twenty Neuroi of varying air and ground types: about fourteen air units and six ground units." Sakamoto replied.

Ghost turns to Skamoto and looks the Fuso witch dead in the eye. "How many girls in the 78th?"

Sakamoto blinks in surprise at Ghost's question. "Eighteen witches consisting of and Air component and a Land component: Eight Land Witches and ten Air Infantry Witches, although currently one of them, the Second in Command, has been in hospital for a while after she was injured."

"Roach and I will join you girls in your battle, won't we Roach?"

Roach stutters as he looks at his CO. "W-we are?"

Ghost turns and gives his subordinate an intense look, at which Roach gulps.

"So we are. Okay, that's cool; I could use the exercise anyways."

"Huh?" The other girls look surprised at Ghost's proposition of providing them with aid. Even Barkhorn blinks rapidly in disbelief

"You mean you actually want to go with us? !" Barkhorn asks incredulously.

Sakamoto's eye bore intensely at the British Lieutenant; Ghost can sense the young Majors distrust.

"You both stay here, there's not much that conventional soldiers can do without witches providing them aid, and even WITH aid survival is marginal."

Ghost chuckles as he presents his rebuttal. "That's good, because Roach and I aren't conventional. We're Special Ops, mamm. The two of us make marginal survival on a daily bases. We'll watch your six out there."

"It's too dangerous, and you've only just arrived in this world. You know nothing about the Neuroi. For you, it's impossible."

"We will adapt and overcome." Ghost smirked, though Sakamoto couldn't tell because of his balaclava. "Nothing's impossible for the 141."

The intense gaze that Ghost was under from the Major seemed to slacken. Sakamoto's intense; uncovered eye no longer looking at him in a sharp glare but more like a firm stair.

"You're concerning yourselves in our battle? Why?"

"Still don't trust me, eh?"

Sakamoto say's nothing, her face straight and devoid of any response.

"I do what needs to be done. You need soldiers to stand the line and fight the enemy, so you've got Roach and me to add to what you already have. I'm not the type to stand by and leave things; I see to it that those things are taken care of."

Sakamoto closes her eye as she contemplates, she sighs heavily as her hand rests on her Type 99-2-2 Auto Cannon.

At last, she exhales. "Very well, Lieutenant "Ghost", have it your way. If you wish to communicate with us, we're on channel 10.2" With that, the Major sorties with Perrine following close behind her.

Barkhorn turns to Ghost and takes a moment to study the Lieutenant of the Task Force. "You don't know what you'll be facing, are you sure you'll want to fight alongside us?"

"Of Course Captain Barkhorn, as I told the Major, I'm putting my boots on the line."

Barkhorn nods. "Okay then. Just don't get blasted out of your boots then, understood?"

"Roger." With that, Ghost salutes Captain Barkhorn as she sorties with Erica, Yoshika and Lynn.

Just as the girls fly out of the hanger, a 6X6 truck rolls up in front of the hanger's doorway. Roach and Ghost could see who was inside the truck; Corporal Dunn at the driver's wheel and Foley riding shotgun in the cab while Ramirez sat in the back. Foley turns to the two men of the 141 and addresses them.

"Hey Lieutenant, are you boys going to be hanging here for tea or do you wanna roll with us?"

Ghost hefts his ACR off his shoulder and approaches the truck the three rangers rolled up in, with Roach following close behind him.

"Seems like similar minds think alike Sergeant Foley, I was thinking about giving those girls of the 501st a bit of a hand."

"No shit?" Foley laughs and waves the two British men over.

Dunn leans over the steering wheel and calls over to Ghost and Roach. "You both better get in here, we're gonna have a bitch of a time catching up with those girls."

Ghost approaches the back of the truck and is greeted by Private Ramirez. He passes the American Private his ACR, which is placed on the floor, and then Ramirez takes Ghost's hand when it's extended towards him and helps Ghost into the back of the truck. Once inside, Ghost helps Roach in as well, though before his foot manages to have a chance to leave the tarmac, the truck lumbers forward as he's helped in by his CO. The truck slowly starts to gain speed, passing through the gate and leaving the base behind, following the girls of the 501st who were at this stage just a set of dots in the distance.

Once inside, the two Task Force Operators are left with the Private of Hunter- 21. As the truck's engine drones and the vehicle swaying as its tires roll across the ground, Ramirez studies the two men sitting across from him silently. He tried to read them both, but their balaclava's hid their faces, and concealed any emotion the two men may have otherwise shown. Roach brought his goggles down over his eyes and glanced over at Ramirez, if only briefly, his gaze shifting to the scenery rolling away from the back of the truck. For a half hour, Ramirez sat silently with the two men of the task force, the lack of sound or any sort of conversation was, ironically enough, absolutely deafening.

Finally, Ramirez addresses the two men.

"So, where you both from?"

Roach seems about to reply, but stops when Ghost casts a glance at him. At which point, the young Sergeant casts his gaze elsewhere. Ramirez sighs when he realizes that they are both not sharing.

"Okay, don't feel like chatting, that's cool dude." Ramirez gestures at himself with his thumb."I'm from L.A. dawg. Lived on the rough side of town, had to grow up in a though neighbourhood."

Ghost casts an uncaring look at Ramirez. "Sorry to hear mate, that's though luck."

Ramirez shrugs. "Could have been worse, I know you guys probably don't care or anything, but I figured we might... I dunno. Break the ice or something?"

Roach looks back over to Ramirez and slouches forward.

"So why are you guys helping those girls?"

Ramirez laughs a little as he gestures to the cab of the truck. "Sarge ordered us to. Truth be told, I don't mind really. I'm always being ordered to do something anyways." He strokes his balaclava covered chin in curiosity and he speaks to the two men of the Task Force. "What about you guys? What's your story for helping these kids?"

Roach just gives a dull stare. Ghost studies Ramirez cautiously; his eye's boring into the privates. "Cuse we are. That's all there is too it."

Ramirez sighs. He's getting nothing out of these guys, they won't open up._ So much for breaking the ice._ Ramirez thinks to himself, adjusting his sawfly ballistic glasses over his eyes.

On the men's radios comes a familiar voice: "All units, this is Major Sakamoto. We are just entering the airspace of the sector and are now preparing to engage the enemy."

Another voice responds on the radio following Sakamoto's broadcast, that of a young girl. "Major, this is Captain Clotilda Marwick of the 78th. My girls and I are barely able to hold off the Neuroi mamm, they've been sending ground types into the heart of sector Abel-One-One and the air types are constantly harassing us. The nearby village is also taking a beating. What's your ETA mamm?"

"Less than five minutes Captain, just hold on and try and lead the enemy away from the village!"

"Understood mamm, we'll try our best!"

Ramirez exhales. From the sound of Marwick's voice, it seemed like things were getting desperate for the reserve witches. Before Ramirez could make a quick witted comment, Dunn's voice chirps up from the cab.

"Hey back there; we're entering the village now."

Ghost grunts in response, acknowledging the corporal. "How are things looking up their?"

"Have a look for yourself Lieutenant. You wouldn't believe this shit if I told ya."

As the truck rolls further into the country village, Ghost and the others get a chance to have a look as some of the buildings. It was a strange scene for the five men: the ground was scarred by long lines and ruts that seemed burned into the Earth, and buildings seemed to be cleanly cut as if a hot knife had run through them, or had neat, round holes punched through them. There wasn't much in the way of rubble, except where the occasional crater lay.

After a while Dunn murmurs to the Sergeant. "Damn, this shit's pretty weird bro."

"Hooah." Foley replies.

"Hooah, indeed." Ramirez agrees.

"Everyone stay sharp." Ghost cautions.

Just as Ghost finishes speaking, a large, sudden beam of light barrels alongside the truck, almost grazing the vehicles left side, the five men blinded by a reddish-pink light. Dunn curses loudly while Ramirez and Roach shout profanities of their own. Dunn struggles to keep control of the truck and attempting to keep it moving and he soon begins to freak out.

"HOLY SHIT! SARGE, WHAT WAS THAT? !"

"WORRY ABOUT NOT GETTING HIT FIRST CORPORAL! MOVE!"

The truck is then buzzed by a large black and red blur that passes over the truck. Roach yells as he points at the object that apparently took a pot shot at them.

"WHAT, the FUCK, is THAT! ?"

Ghost follows Roach's pointing hand at the object in question, squinting to get a good look at it. It was large sized and shaped like a strange sort of aircraft. It had a black and red honey comb pattern, and it moved fast. Ghost had never seen anything quite like whatever that thing was, and he thought he'd seen it all.

As the unknown hostile contact began to circle around, Sakamotos voice sounded over the radio.

"All units be advised, the 501st have made contact with the Neuroi and have begun to engage the enemy. I'm requesting a status update on all units."

On the comm is the sound of yet another girl. "This is Sergeant Major Olivia Rivera, my girls are trying to draw a new squad of four Neuroi Tanks out of the village, but only half of them are taking the bait. We'll try and draw the others out into the open, but it will be a tall order. We land witches will give them all we've got mamm."

Ghost also transmits a message. "This is Ghost; we have contact at the North of the village."

Roach screams into his comm. "Major Sakamoto, are you telling me that the thing that just shot a fucking laser beam at us and is turning around to shoot at us again is a mother fucking NEUROI?"

"That is correct Roach."

Still freaking out, Dunn also speaks loudly into his comm. "So you're saying we haveta fight about twenty more like that? !"

Perrine replies in a matter of fact tone on the comm channel. "Actually, that's one of the smaller ones."

Dunn turns hard right down an intersection as he curses loudly. "God Fucking Damnit! That fucker's one of the fucking small ones? How big can these bitches fucking get?"

"Watch your language, Corporal! You're currently in the presence of ladies, so conduct yourself like a gentleman and less like a brute."

"Are you joking kid? This is a fucking war zone; this is the last place for that aristocratic, highbrow bullshit!"

Perrine sputters. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me!"

"I never! You're a horrible, deplorable man Corporal Dunn!"

"Deal with it princess!"

Foley turns to his right hand man and points at the road in front of them. "Dunn, quit talking and keep driving!"

"I'm driving, I'm driving!"

The Neuroi that took a shot at the truck soon begins to tail the five men. Laser fire comes close to grazing them, but fortunately, Dunn's swerving and fancy driving pays off so far, keeping the truck from being struck by the creature's laser fire. After a while, Foley shouts an order to the Private.

"RAMIREZ! Use your rifle and take out that thing!"

Ramirez stairs at the Neuroi flying about 500 meters away, trailing the truck and keeping pace with them. Without objection, Ramirez raises his rifle and sights his target. Before he fires, he calls back to Foley.

"You want me to set any records here Sarge?"

"That's fine private, right now just try and kill that thing."

"Roger." With that Ramirez sets his weapon for semi-automatic firing and depresses the trigger five times. With each discharge of his weapon, the rounds end up missing. Firing from a moving vehicle at a large sized target about 500 meters with a assault rifle set on semi-auto was, to say the very least, a challenge. Add the fact the young private was freaking out a little on the inside didn't help.

Roach quickly scrambles to the Privates side and steadies his M240.

"Need a hand?" The Task Force Sergeant offers.

"Appreciate it dude."

Roach depresses the trigger of his M240 and let's loose a series of long bursts as Ramirez fires several rounds onto the Neuroi. This combination of weapons fire; with Roaches weapon providing suppression while Ramirez's rifle providing precision shooting, the Neuroi groans under the heavy return fire, being hit multiple times until it finally disengages.

Ghost turns to the cab and reports to Sergeant Foley on the progress of the two men, his voice cool and calm.

"Hostile is hit and disengaging."

Captain Clotilda Marwick speaks over the radio again. "I see it boys, I'm moving in to finish it off." The sound of a witch flying overhead pursuing the retreating Neuroi is heard by the men on the ground, assuming it to be the Lieutenant of the Reserve Witches. Following close behind the young Lieutenant is another witch that is assumed to be her wingman.

As Dunn turns left at another intersection in the village, he curses loudly and applies the brakes and forcing the truck into a sudden stop. He and Foley see a Neuroi Land type tank slowly lumbering forward and turning in their general direction. Foley bellows out to everyone in the 6X6 troop transport truck.

"Everyone dismount now! Get out of the truck!"

Quickly the five men dismount the truck just as a laser beam is charged and about to be fired from the Land based Neuroi. After Foley leaps out the passenger side door and runs about five meters away from the truck, the Neuroi fires its weapon, the beam cutting through a good chunk of the truck. After a brief second, the truck still stands, but is then instantly engulfed by a fireball, the truck split in half down the center. The five men quickly dash to cover, with the three Rangers hiding in a building on the right side of the road, and the two members of the task force on the left side. Overhead, they can hear the sound of battle above them, as the witches fight in the sky against the other air type Neuroi.

After spending a minute behind cover, Ghost peeks out slightly to get a look at the Neuroi that just destroyed their ride. He sees a large walker shaped creature, as it's the only description that he could think of, and it seemed to be waiting patiently for a target, shifting its focus down either flank of the street for anything to attack that was worth attacking. After doing this while sitting with his back up against a partly destroyed wall of a house, Ghost shifts his weight a little and turns to Roach.

"I just got eye's on." Ghost whispers.

Roach pants heavily as he sweats beneath his balaclava. The young Sergeant is visibly shaking and fumbling with his weapon. Once his hold on the M240 becomes surer, he peeks out from behind an overturned table as he talks to Ghost. "What's it doing?"

"Searching for us by the looks of it."

"So what are we going to do?"

Ghost has a double take at the Neuroi and gestures with his thumb along the Neuroi's right flank.

"Probably flank around behind it."

Over the comm., the two Task Force Operators hear Foleys voice whisper over the channel.

"Sounds like a plan. The three of us can distract it for you both while you get a good angle on that thing."

"Roger, we'll do this on my mark."

"Understood Lieutenant, We're ready on your go."

Roach and Ghost quickly give their weapons a good once over before they were ready to counter attack with the Rangers against the Neuroi. In Ghosts mind he wondered where a thing like the Neuroi could possibly come from. If they say that the best way to win in a battle was to know your enemy, then how could they win against something they knew nothing about? Upon thinking this, Ghost's thoughts take him back to Mexico, to after his family was killed and he was on the run for not only their deaths, but the death of Major Hawkins and a psychiatrist he had to visit after his first mission to take down Roba (which backfired catastrophically). After Sparks and Washington, two fellow squadmates that were brainwashed by Roba , went on their killing spree and set Simon up, he got what little info, and vengeful satisfaction, out of them before killing the both of them and retraced his steps to Mexico to get at Roba's right hand man.

He remembered the conversation pretty well that he had with the man when he had him at his mercy as his prisoner. He thought Simon was a dead man at first, but after a while began doubting that, claiming upon being questioned that the dead know all. He remembered telling the poor sap he had handcuffed to a chair and injected needles of Psychedelics, Opiates, Temazepam and Benzilate into his face and eyes, that whatever the dead don't know, they can learn.

And learn he did.

That act of cruelty and barbarism inflicted on Roba's right hand got him the location of Roba's second safe house. Of course, jungles as thick as steel plate, filled with man eating Jaguars and Ants that can tear your flesh off, forget about the fact you had to deal with patrols outside the perimeter, huge walls surrounding the parameter with eight inch thick concrete and heavily armed security on the grounds of Robas Summer home was neigh improbable.

Of course, being a "dead man" it was easy for Simon, and he being a dead man who was SAS to boot only made him more of a nightmare for every tango that he faced. So this would be no different. What he didn't know about these Neuroi things, he will learn, even if he has to do so going on nothing but his training, his knowledge and his gut. Once his momentary stroll down memory lane ended, Ghost turned to Roach and gestured to his Sergeant.

"You ready?"

Roach covers the mouth piece of his headset radio as he whispers to Ghost, being sure to keep the rangers from hearing in on a private exchange of words.

"So you trust these three Rangers?"

Ghost briefly peeks over his cover at the other side of the roadway at the three Rangers. He turns back to Roach and covers his comm with his hand.

"We'll see Roach..." he whispers.

Both men both uncover their comms and Ghost barks an order to the Rangers.

"MARK!"

On cue, the three Rangers of the 75th Ranger Regiment pour lead down on the Neuroi's position. Distracted by the gun fire the Neuroi groans and slowly turns in the direction of the three Americans and tries to get a bead on the trio. While its distracted, Roach and Ghost move through destroyed buildings and mounds of rubble, taking care to not draw attention from the alien creature. They both manoeuvre around behind it and quickly get into a firing position. While they are getting ready to make a sneak attack on the Neuroi, Foley's voice is heard over the comm channels.

"Lieutenant, our bullets aren't doing anything!"

Dunn also yells over the channel. "Not even my SCAR-H is denting this bastard! 7.62 barley even leaves a scratch."

Ghost mutters under his breath before he gives a suggestion to Sergeant Foley. "Have you three got any M203's?"

"A few; if lead doesn't work, may as well try high explosive then." Foley turns to Ramirez and points to the Privates webbing.

"RAMIREZ! M203's, GET EM READY!"

"Roger Sarge."

Foley and Ramirez Switched to their M203 Launchers, while Dunn draws one of his Grenades and pulls the pin, the three men ready to resume attacking on Ghost's signal. Ghost also digs out M203 ammunition and load the under slung grenade launcher mounted under his ACR. Taking aim at the hulking alien thing before him, Ghost gave the order.

"FIRE M203's!"

Ghost, Ramirez and Foley fired the M203 Grenade rounds at the Neuroi, while Dunn tossed the M67 Grenade soon after wards; Ghost's round impacting the Neuroi's rear and the rounds of the two Rangers impacting its front. Several resulting explosions appeared once the grenade rounds impacted the Neuroi's hide, the beast groaning loudly from the impact. The Grenade tossed by Dunn landed underneath the creatures belly and soon detonated. Once the puffs of smoke clear and the explosion of the grenade died down, a large hole can be seen in the Neuroi's hide, eliciting cheers from Dunn.

"Fuck yeah! Get some baby! How do you like that shit? !"

Roach peaks over his cover to determine the status of the Neuroi. "We hit it? !"

Ghost scoffed; elated that they could actually hurt these alien hostiles.

"Hope that hurt ya bastard."

However, after a few seconds, the five men notice the large hole in the creatures hide begin to glow white and blue, and to their horror it seemed like the Alien was slowly repairing its damage; the large hole in its hide steadily growing smaller. If Dunn's mouth could have dropped to his feet like a cartoon, it would have. After the initial shock, Dunn's emotions transformed into dumbfounded rage and he pointed directly at the Neuroi as he began ranting.

"OH THAT IS MOTHER FUCKING BULLSHIT! THAT THING CAN REGENERATE? ! GOD DAMNIT, THAT'S HAX BRO!"

Ramirez fearfully looks at the Neuroi, his eyes locked on the alien creatures hulking form. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Foley mopped his face. "Well damn...that's discouraging."

Ghost groaned loudly in an exasperated tone. "Fukien bastard; you've got to be shitting me."

Roach freezes completely. "Aw hell."

Gertrudes Voice sounds over the radio channel as she fights alongside Erica against a large bomber type Neuroi, hearing the rough speech of the five men fighting below.

"You have to destroy a Neuroi's core in order to kill it! The five of you need to aim for the core!"

As she says this, the Neuroi turns in the direction of the three Rangers, finally acquiring them in its sights. The looks on the faces of the three Rangers turns into one that can be universally described as: Oh Crap.

"Sarge, Dunn, don't tell me that thing see's us."

"Ramirez. Dunn..." Foley sees a red shape on what appears to be the cannon of the Neuroi begin to glow an angry red. "MOVE YOUR ASSESS NOW! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!"

The three men sprint for all their legs are worth to another building for cover, trying to escape being caught in the Neuroi's inbound laser fire. The position they previously had held at disappeared in a flash of reddish-pink light, the three of them diving into the room of a fully intact building.

"Oh man, that was close!" Ramirez panted heavily.

"I know we almost fucking died man!"

"That girl waits until now to tell us we need to find and shoot a weak point on this thing? Would have been helpful Intel to know BEFORE we started blasting at it!"

"No shit Ramirez. No fucking shit!"

Irritably Foley barked at his two subordinates.

"Shut up! The both of ya! We're going to need a new plan."

Before anyone could make any suggestions, the tank Neuroi was assailed by a rain of shell fire from ten o-clock high. The Neuroi groaning as rounds smacked into and exploded around it. Looking up to the sky, the Ghost, Roach and the Rangers see a young witch firing at the Neuroi with a large C61-K autocannon. The five men were dumbfounded seeing such a small girl with long platinum hair carrying a weapon of such size and weight, wearing a Soviet M35 Soldiers Tunic wearing a M41NGCAP.M35 pilotka cap.

The young girl shouts something, but the five soldiers can't hear her voice very well over the thundering noise of the oversized crewed infantry weapon in her grasp.

"Is she using an Autocannon?" Dunn asked pointing up at the girl laying waste to the alien invader.

"How the hell is she capable of doing that?" Ramirez asked in disbelief.

Roach answers over the radio. "Magic I guess?"

The Neuroi shuddered and groaned until at last its core was exposed. The Young witch's auto cannon had run dry however and she was unable to finish off her target, forced to take time reloading a new clip for her autocannon. Ghost notices this and shouts out to Foley.

"SEARGENT, DO YOU SEE THAT THINGS WEAKSPOT?"

Foley peaks around the door of the building that he and his men had taken cover in to take a look and the wounded Neuroi. He notices one of the holes in the Neuroi's hide had a large Red polyhedron gem inside it.

_That looks important._

Foley takes a 40mm M203 round out of his combat webbing, loading the explosive projectile into the Underbarrle Grenade Launcher.

"I think I see it Lieutenant."

"Sergeant, if you have eyes on its weak point and have a shot, you take it."

"Copy that. I've got em."

Foley takes aim at the Neuroi's exposed core and fires the M203 mounted under his SCAR. A plonk is heard as the round leaves the barrel of the Grenade Launcher, a second later the round impacts the Neuroi's core and detonates. The concussion and fragmentation of the grenade destroys the core. The Neuroi Tank falls silent, its body exploding into a bright white light.

The Five men breathe a sigh of relief, thankful to be alive. Foley chuckles as he wipes the sweat from his brow.

"Solid hit."

Ghost peaks up over his cover and signals to Foley and his men.

"Nice shot Sergeant."

"Don't mention it Lt, we have your back."

Looking up, the five men notice the air infantry witch carrying the autocannon salute them, speaking to them in a language that the Rangers found oddly similar to the one used by the Russian soldiers they encountered back home .

Dunn blinks. "She's Russian?" He murmurs quietly.

Before the five men can even have a chance to relax, a beam of light blinds them, followed in quick succession by another. Once the second beam dissipates the five men hear screaming as they see the young Orussian soldier fall from the sky and hit the ground hard, her left leg missing just below the knee.

Ghost leaps to his feet, not caring that he's now just exposed himself to potential enemy fire.

"SHE'S DOWN!"

He leaps over the rubble he and Roach hid behind, running at full stride towards the downed witch.

"Ghost, wait up!" Roach follows suit, staying close to his Lieutenant.

Foley sees this and mirrors the Task Force Operators.

"RAMIREZ! DUNN! LET'S GO, DOUBLE TIME!"

Ramirez and Dunn comply without question, following Foley's lead. The five men meet in the middle of the road that the injured witch had landed. The five men circle around the screaming girl as she clutched at her stump, crying out incoherently in Orussian. Passing overhead is another Neuroi, this one a medium sized Dart shape that was moving fast. Following close behind it was the familiar silhouette of a witch that seemed to be holding a pair of machineguns. A familiar voice rings out on the radio channel. It was Barkhorn.

"We have a Witch down! I'm going to kill that Neuroi Bastard!"

Sakamoto is next to speak. "Understood Barkhorn, be advised, have Erica reform formation with you."

"It's getting away Major! There's no time!"

"Barkhorn? !"

"I'll be fine! I'm almost in effective firing range!"

"Don't do anything reckless Captain Barkhorn!"

Erika's voice chimed on the radio and the group on the ground could see her trailing far behind Barkhorn overhead.

"Trude, your getting too far, I can barely keep up with you!"

As the two girls pass overhead Roach shakes his head in disbelief. "Man, that Barkhorn girl has got a temper. Remind me not to get on her bad side."

Ghost holds up the injured girl's upper body and spoke to her in Russian as he did. His voice was calming when he spoke to her, and his tone gentle.

Quickly he turns to Dunn and looks the Corporal in the eye.

"Can you help her?"

Dunn can only stair at the young girl, crying in Ghost's hands and writhing in pain. Dunn hated Russians like cats hated water. He had good reason to feel that way: A Russian killed Allen, Russian's had killed his fellow countrymen, his fellow servicemen, his parents and left his sister with a scarred mind and body once his hometown was attacked by a Russian invasion force. But this young witch, a child from a land that was for all intents and purposes a parallel of Russia challenged his hatred. She was just a kid. Even though she spoke Russian, she did nothing wrong to him. In fact, she saved their bacon by wounding that alien freak a second ago.

Dunn takes a knee next to Ghost as his hands are immediately at his medical kit and he lays it on the ground in front of him.

"I'll try everything I've got."

"Good, start with easing her pain Corporal."

"I've got what she needs Lieutenant."

Dunn takes out a syrette from his Medic bag containing morphine and attempts to administer it to the wounded girl, but painfully and fearfully she thrashes, preventing Dunn from trying to administer it. Ghost softly speaks to the girl in Russian, trying to calm her so that they can give her help. He gestures to Dunn and back to the little one as he does.

The girl understands Ghost and nods, the look on her face pained, still squirming from the pain and shock of losing her leg, but not as much as before.

Dunn slowly try's again to administer the Morphine, being careful not to injure the girl while he is treating her. Inserting the syrette into an artery in the girls good leg he squeezes the tube, letting the analgesic medication into her blood. After a moment the girl breaths deeply as the pain seems to dull for her, watching Dunn as he turns back to his medical kit to retrieve bandages. While Dunn digs through his medical bag, Roach turns to the group, lifting up his goggles.

"Should we be sitting out here in the open?"

Ramirez nods at Roach in agreement. "I'm with Roach; I don't want a laser to take my head off out here."

Ghost turns to Dunn and gestures to the girl and then to a nearby building.

"Can we move her Corporal?"

"I think so, but I'll need to treat her and get her stabilized, the wound may be cauterized but I need to bandage it before her wound gets infected."

A laser beam tears through the Village Street and smacks into a building sitting ten yards away. Another tank type Neuroi slowly crawls through the ruins of a destroyed house as it advances. Roach, Ghost and the Rangers get to their feet quickly run to cover with the wounded girl in tow. Ducking into another building which was damaged but only slightly, the five men kept hidden from the Neuroi.

Upon laying the girl on the floor, Ghost quickly began a search of the house, going into one room and searching it. As he did that, Dunn began to treat the wounded Orussian witch, taking out bandages and begins applying them to the girl's stump. Ramirez and Roach meanwhile take up defensive positions in the house at the front and back doors, though Ramirez is sitting up against the doorframe of the backdoor, breathing heavily as he rested.

"I don't think I like these Neuroi things very much. I mean; Laser beams, regeneration and only heavy duty weaponry can do anything to them, this place is shit when it comes to everyday grunts fighting things like that."

Foley scoffs at the private's remark. "What the hell are you complaining for? Think about the regulars of this world fighting these things with old school weaponry by our standards. That takes balls private. We're the new boys on the block boasting high tech gear and we're just lucky we haven't been vaporized."

Ghost re-appears from the adjacent room he was in with a blanket and places it over the injured Orussian witch as he speaks to her softly. "Здесь оягнитесь, вы как раз примите ему легкому промежуток времени."

As Dunn dresses the girls wound, he looks up to Ghost with curiosity on his face. "You know Russian?"

"I know a few languages: Russian, Spanish, Portuguese, and a little German, just to name a few. Helps learning a few languages mate, better to understand what someone is saying."

"So what have you been telling her this whole time?" Dunn asks, gesturing to the injured witch.

"Mostly "we're here to help" and told her "you'll be okay."

Both men are interrupted when the little Orussian girl began murmuring sadly; her eye's looking up through a hole in the ceiling, the sky seen through it with clouds passing overhead, in addition of a Nueroi being pursued by a witch, though no one could tell the witches identity from on the ground. The American men didn't understand a word the small girl had said, but they could tell from how sad the tone of her voice was, her eyes swelling with tears, that she was in more the just physical pain.

Ghost turns to the young girl as tears roll down her face and extends his hand, placing it on her shoulder.

"нет" As Ghost talks to the girl he continues speaking to her in English. "You did a damn good job here. You saved our lives, and your mother and father would be proud of you. Just rest now, alright?"

The girl stairs at Ghost with a surprised look crossing her features, and though Ghost's words didn't ebb the flow of tears in her eyes, she smiled at him.

She replies to him in heavily accented English. "T-thank you comrade Lieutenant."

Ghost turns his attention to Foley and points upwards.

"Foley, I don't suppose you'd know what the status of the 501st is currently, or this girls unit?"

"Negative Ghost; as far as I know, the girls are still fighting those alien bastards."

"Right, bout time we get a sit rep then."

The sound and bright flash of laser fire tears through a group of building on the opposite side of the street, making everyone in the house jump, followed by a small chain of curses.

Roach growls audibly. "You know, that's really starting to get on my last bit of spine jangled nerves."

Dunn makes a quip as he finishes dressing the girls wound. "Tell me about it, I feel like shitting my pants."

Ramirez turns to Dunn as he kneels by the backdoor of the house. "I wouldn't blame ya man, so do I."

"Between me and you guys, I'd much rather be dodging falling helicopters in DC right about now. Compared to this bullshit at least I could laugh about it afterwards." Dunn removes his helmet and ruffles his hair, sighing as he sat down. He laid his weapon down next to him on the floor and looked about the room.

"Sarge?"

Foley turned to Dunn questioningly. "Yeah Dunn?"

"The five of us are WAY out of our league aren't we?"

Foley pauses a moment before he responds, going over everything they just went through: They were shot at with laser beams by weird black and red aliens that like to do impersonations of funky looking aircraft and tanks, could regenerate at will, and the only weak point that they could hit to kill the damn things was protected by a weird metallic skin so thick that the only way to get though the tough outer coating was to apply as much heavy duty firepower with more ammunition then a single man could carry.

Though Foley didn't like the fact that this world needed to have children fight in a man's war for them, he had to grudgingly accept why witches we're so important out in the field. Even with high tech weapons in the hands of a conventional elite soldier, by themselves they would have been picked off easily. It was only with the help of a witch did they have a chance of killing the Neuroi before it had a chance to actually inflict heavy casualties.

They were all down to their last clips and rounds of...well damn near everything. After all that last little bit of ammo is expended they would be left to their sidearm's and after that they would have to resort to probably throwing rocks at the enemy, which either way would be utterly and completely useless endeavour against monsters like this.

Still...

"Yes, in all likely hood we are. But fuck it anyways, that doesn't mean we just pack it in, give up and call it quits. We're Rangers for fuck sakes. And Ranger's lead the way. No ifs, ands or buts! And if you even start entertaining the idea of packing it in, I'll put my boot so far and so hard up your ass that it'll leave a tread imprint on your uvula!"

There's a moment of silence before Dunn responds. He picks up his helmet, adjusting his NVG's that were mounted on it before placing it on his lap.

"I don't know if that's physically possible, but I'm not one to tempt fate."

Foley grins at the response of his right hand man.

Ghost meanwhile sends a message out to the witches on his headset radio.

"This is Ghost; one of the 78th Reserve Witches is confirmed shot down and is severely wounded. We have her secured at a building North of the location of our destroyed transport lorry. Be advised, we may have another one of them Neuroi Walkers approaching our position, and we are currently unable to effectively engage. Is there anyone who may be able to provide us with some cover while we try and work out a way for us to provide her with CASEVAC?"

The voice of a witch is heard over the comm in response.

This is Sergeant Major Jenna Foster of the 78th Reserve Witches, Tank Witches squad. I think I'm close to you guys, I'll be there in about three minutes. Sit tight until then, over."

The sound of a loud screech followed by Neuroi Laser fire cuts through the top floor of the house that the mishmashed squad had taken cover in. Everyone hits the floor as dust, debris and bright red light floods the living room. Dunn shields the wounded young Orussian witch with his body, the young girl bleating loudly in fear. The laser beam cuts cleanly through the midsection of the house, destroying the stairs and nearly grazing Ramirez. The private covers his head with his arms to protect himself, screaming loudly. The young private could feal the heat emanating from the Neuroi's laser fire. Once the laser dissipates, he begins cursing.

"FUCKING SUNOVABITCH!"

The Neuroi that just blasted a clean gash through the house flew overhead. It was a large, delta wing aircraft type that slowly cruised the blue skies above. Ramirez stairs at where the door right next to him once stood, replaced now by a cleanly burned gap about four feet wide. He strikes the wall he was leaning up against.

Foley calls out to the Private with Concern ringing clear in his voice.

"RAMIREZ! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

"THAT COULD HAVE KILLED ME! THAT FUCKING COCKSUCKER COULD HAVE KILLED ME!"

The normally silent private of Hunter-21 wasn't so silent now. Shakily getting to his feet and standing in the hole of the gashed out wall, he turns to face the large airborne Neuroi, all the while it seemed to be dropping laser fire almost arbitrarily into the township below in its path.

"God damn asshole isn't even trying to target anything! It doesn't even give a shit!" Ramirez turns to Foley and pulls off his ballistic glasses with his free hand, his eyes burning with red hot hatred. He points up at the Neuroi that nearly fried him while his glasses are still in his grasp. "Sarge, its official: I fucking HATE Neuroi!"

Dunn slowly rolls off the girl he was shielding from harm and looks down at her. Though he tries to pull away and give her some space, she gips his BDU tightly, not wanting to release her hold of the Corporal. His eyes rest on her amputated leg which he had just treated, feeling somber as he sighs shakily.

"I hate those things too man." He strokes the young girl's hair as a gesture of empathy and she clings tightly to him in response. "I hate what they did to this kid here."

The smile that Foley had before has long since vanished. Getting up off the floor, as much as he hated to admit it: he was starting to think that the five of them were biting off a heck of a bit more then they could chew. The Enemy had a superior force with far superior fire power. How the hell could they possibly match that? The Sergeant exhales and looks to Dunn, Ramirez, Ghost and Roach slowly.

"Life's a bitch, but I guess, we'll have to deal with it, Hooah?"

Ghost meanwhile, is silent. He removes the Magazine from his ACR and checks off how many rounds he has left in it.

_Half a mag left in my weapon, one full mag left in my webbing. _

Ghost replaces the half spent ACR Magazine as he addresses Roach. "Whelp, looks like another good day for getting our assess kicked, eh Roach?"

Roach looks over to Ghost, shaking like a leaf as he spoke. "I concur sir."

Ghost glances at his tactical watch for a moment, before he chuckles loudly as he shakes his head.

The three rangers and the young witch stair at Ghost in disbelief; they were under constant heavy laser fire from Neuroi and keep coming within a hairs length of being killed, and he's laughing? !

Ramirez finally speaks. "What the fuck are you laughing about? !"

"We are really fucking lucky bastards. Don't you yanks agree?"

Foley raises any eyebrow. "What do you mean by that exactly?"

"What I mean Sergeant Foley, is that we keep finding ourselves in situations where we almost keep getting killed, and yet we somehow scrape by danger by the skin of our teeth. There's times that I've been in a few situations that would have killed any other man, and honestly half of them I should have never have lived through, but I did. Hell, Roach and I probably should have died back in the Caucasus Mountains, but we're here; alive and well, more or less."

There's a strange silence in the room as everyone observes Ghosts and listens to him speak.

"I'm sure you boys must have had your share of close calls, right?"

Dunn shot Ghost a dull, unamused look, sticking his helmet back on his head and adjusting the chin strap. "Did the three of us mention the fact that we dodged falling helicopters in DC."

Ramirez abruptly places his ballistic glasses back on his face. "Not to mention that fucking nightmare that they called an EVAC... AND we survived our Blackhawk being shot down by SAMM's after we used said Blackhawk to destroy a Russian platoon, some BTR's, a Hind and a few of those SAMM's before it DID get shot down. "

Dunn chuckles a little bit, though it isn't a particularly enthusiastic one. "That was mostly you dude, you were the guy on the Minigun."

"Minor Detail, but hey if you want me to take all the credit, I'm fine with that."

"I still can't believe you used to be the strong silent type. Now you never shut up."

Roach looks at the three Rangers', thoroughly impressed. "That is the single most badass thing I've ever heard in my entire life. And I have seen a few badass things and people during my time in the 141." He turns to Ghost, pulls down his balaclava and makes a huge, cheesy, shit-eating grin. "Present company excluded of course."

The Lieutenant looks over at Roach and gives him a nudge with his fist. "And you've certainly gotten yourself into a fair share of trouble haven't ya Roach. Hell, that's how you got your call sign."

Roach's face immediately drops. "Um...Ghost, you think you might keep that one on the down-low?"

"Don't worry that one's still confidential."

Ramirez slowly walks over to where Dunn and the witch were sitting and took a seat beside them. Looking at the Orrussian girl as she clung to Dunn, a thought occurs to the Private.

"Hey Dunn, I don't think we ever caught this girls name."

Dunn looks at Ramirez for a moment and nods. "You know something Ramirez, your right." Dunn looks down at the young witch holding on to him and speaks softly to her. "So what's your name kid?"

The young witch seems surprised for a moment, before she looks down at the floor and responds quietly.

"D-darya. Junior Sergeant Darya."

Dunn smiles and introduces himself to the young witch. "I'm Corporal Jake Dunn. It's nice to meet you Darya."

"H-hello, Comrade Corporal Dunn."

Ramirez smirks and looks back over at Ghost. "Well, I guess we finally broke the ice then, huh?"

Ghost studies Ramirez for a moment, before finally nodding. "I guess we did."

Roach turns to Ghost and nudges the task force operator's arm with his elbow before gesturing silently to the three Rangers. Ghost makes an "iffy" gesture with his hand in response. Both men may be willing to work alongside the Ranger's of the 75th Ranger Regiment at this point in time, but are still being cautious.

The heavy clank of enemy Neuroi Walker outside causes everyone in the room to freeze. Theirs is a moment of dead silence as everyone held fast. Foley low crawls slowly to a window, peaking through the glass window pane to get eye's on the hostile contact. From what he saw, the Neuroi was advancing up the street and was currently passing the building.

Foley ducked his head back down and brought his hand up in a gesture that everyone was to keep silent. "Everyone keep quiet." he hissed quietly.

Everyone held their breaths as the larger, lumbering Neuroi Tank made the ground shake with each step it took. The group held quietly, knowing full well that any noise made could possibly alert the Neuroi to their presence. The Orussian girl that Dunn sat next to tugged on his BDU Tunic. Dunn looks down at the girl curiously as she whispers to him.

"My Weapon, Comrade Corporal. I need my weapon."

Dunn shakes his head and silently speaks to her in response. "No, you're wounded. Besides its back out in the street and weighs a few tons."

Foley angrily hushes them both, as the Neuroi continues its slow, steady advance.

Ramirez exhales and relaxes his head up against the wall that he was concealed behind, emotionally exhausted. A barely audible "thunk" of his helmeted head impacting the wall is soon followed by the nightmarish sight and sound of the walls already compromised structural integrity reaching its limit when the part of the wall he hid behind gave way, crumbling into rubble and dust atop his head loudly.

Once the dust settles, everyone is frozen and looking right at the Private as he sits, realizing full well that their position was just revealed. The sound of the Neuroi's footsteps stops.

Ramirez curses. "Fuck!"

Roach turns from Ramirez to Ghost with a nervous, hopeful grin.

"M-maybe it didn't hear that?"

The loud roar for the alien can be heard adjacent to the house, the alien turning to face the building and its hidden occupants, preparing to attack.

Dunn picks up the wounded witch and gets to his feet. "Yeah, and maybe one of us will win the lottery Roach. Let's get the FUCK out of here!"

The sound of an explosion rocks the building followed by a large hole being blowing in the adjacent room and damaging a wall in which the five men and the witch had taken cover in. Bits of plaster, wood and other debris cover the room. Foley looks out the window again with his rifle in his grasp.

Foley blinks. "If you've got a lotto ticket Dunn, then I think we've just won the jackpot. Everyone take a look!"

Another explosion rings out as everyone scrambles to Foley's window, the house shuddering and dust falling from the ceiling. The Neuroi groans engulfed in yet another explosion. About forty meters away, the squad see a Young girl wearing a Striker that was different in design compared to the strikers used by the 501st and the Orussian Witch they had helped. This witch's striker looked a lot like metal tank legs reminiscent of a Sherman tank and she carried a cannon.

The land witch took aim and fired her cannon, blowing a hole in its hide and exposing its core. She followed up with a final round that destroyed the core, eliminating the threat. Once she was victorious, she called out to make contact with the five men, not sure exactly where they were.

" Hey! Is there anyone still alive out here?"

Foley breaks the glass of the window with his weapon, knocking out any remaining shards before signalling to the Land Witch.

"Hooah, over here soldier!"

The land witch spots Foley and upon doing so waves to him with a look of surprised confusion, the gesture seemingly being forced. Once she took the time to scan her surroundings for more Neuroi, she approached the building by sliding with her striker. Upon reaching the entrance of what was left of house, she is met by the five visitors of the other reality. Though the 78th Reserve witches were give a brief overview of the situation, from the girl's mannerisms, it appeared as though they weren't fully prepared for meeting with these five strange visitors. The young witch walks into the room, or at least what was left of it, and takes time to study the five men.

"You five look fucking weird."

The Orussian witch that Dunn held in his arms turned weakly to the land witch, speaking to her comrade Reserve witch.

"Jenna...you came..."

"D-darya!" The land witch approaches Dunn and Darya with a look of horrified shock. She stops just in front of them and looks over her wounded comrade. Once her eyes meet with that bandaged stump that was now what was left of her leg, her gaze is fixated on the Orussian girls wound.

"Your...hurt..."Her eye's flick up from Darya's amputated leg to Dunn. "How did this happen to her?"

Dunn tries to avoid the question, not sure the girl could handle taking the news. "I got her leg bandaged up. She should be-"

Jenna's voice increases in both volume and intensity, angrily making her question an order.

"I SAID: HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?"

Dunn pauses before exhaling nervously. "We were taking a major ass whupping from those Neuroi walker things and she gave us a hand. One of them got a lucky shot or two on her though. I've done everything I could treating her."

The land witch that Darya knew as Jenna nodded.

"Alright then, but the next time I ask a question, I expect it answered, Corporal."

Dunn frowned. Was this girl really chewing him out?

"R-right."

Darya extended her hand to Jenna and took the older girls hand.

"Please don't be angry Jenna. Comrade Dunn was so kind to me; him and his comrades. They helped me..." She looked sadly at her amputated leg as she continued. "The Neuroi that hit me destroyed the Right-leg Striker. The Strikers Pocket dimension protected my leg from the initial attack...but...after I lost the striker..." She hesitated, closing her eyes and sniffling. "...I guess that Neuroi was particularly cruel."

"Darya, if you saw what it looked like, I'll hunt that bastard down and kill it myself."

Ramirez cuts in on the conversation. "Last we saw of it, Captain Barkhorn was on that thing's six."

Ghost nods in agreement. "I get the feeling she'll repay the favour for what it did to Darya."

Jenna blinked. "Captain Barkhorn? The Ace of Karlsland?" She smiled upon learning that it was Barkhorn who was hunting down the alien responsible for harming her squad mate, and ended her career as a front line witch. "If it is Captain Barkhorn, then I know that she will make that alien monster pay. She's one of the Karlsland triple aces."

Ghost pulled down his sunglass slightly, his brown grey eyes looking calmly at Jenna, giving her reassurance.

"Hell if she can kick the ass of someone like me then she's deserving of her reputation."

Roach's head snaps to Ghost as his eyes widen in surprise. "She whipped you Ghost? In a fight?"

Ghost shrugged. "I held my own a while, but I'm no match for that girl's magic once she decided to pull it out." But then he waves his hand dismissively, turning his attention back to Jenna and the others. "But enough about that: It's time we get Darya out of the combat zone. Since our lorry got vaporised, it looks like we'll have to hoof it. Come on, lets go."

Everyone nods in unison as Ghost leads the group out of the heavily damaged building.

* * *

><p>For the past fifteen miniutes, Gertrude stayed on the six of the Neuroi that had wounded one of the witches of the 78th. The creature was fast and very manoeuvrable, giving the Karlsland Captain a run for her money, making her work for the kill. When other Neuroi got between her and this one particular Neuroi, she cut them down easily, shredding them with the machinegun fire of her MG42's, tough her target still remained a difficult target to hit. Barkhorn was no stranger to death and violence on the battlefield. At a young age during her first few years in the Karlsland military she trained to fight Neuroi, and upon completing basic training she was deployed to neighbouring countries in Europe that had been attacked or we're fully occupied by the Neuroi.<p>

She saw the deaths of many soldiers, tankers, pilots and witches during her tours, and once the invaders finally marched upon her countries doorstep, the amount of death and destruction she saw only escalated. The young Captain fought fiercely against the enemy with a ferocity and passion that few were able to match, but as hard as she threw herself at the waves of Neuroi, when her darling sister Chris was caught in the crossfire and wounded, Gertrude was struck with a deep, profound sense of loss and guilt. She felt that she failed her country, and worst of all she failed her little sister. Too guilt ridden and feeling ashamed, she barley even mustered the will to visit her sister while she was hospitalized and in a coma. She couldn't stand seeing Chris like that, knowing she was responsible for protecting her and was unable to do so.

For months after she was distant and cold and during battles she was near suicidal in her attacks. As disciplined as she was she held no regard for her own wellbeing, the only thing driving her was the destruction of the enemy in a full out assault. It was good fortune then that Yoshika Miyafuji had joined the 501st and saved the Karlsland Captains life when she was critically wounded, added to the fact that Minna quite literally slapped some sense into her. At last it made Barkhorn find reason to keep living, the event opening her eye's to how foolish she was acting.

She remained a fierce fighting, disciplined soldier, but she was never overly reckless to the point of purposely killing herself. She fought tactically, instead of throwing herself into the fray blindly. As she perused this Neuroi, she studied its movement and actions carefully.

"I need one clean shot; I just need to time it..."

Barkhorn took aim with her MG42's, trying to get the creature in her sights. The alien machine entity breaked in and out of her sights as she kept pace with it. She wasn't about to let it get away, not after what it had done to one of the Reserve witches. As the alien began a sweeping turn, Barkhorn saw her opportunity.

"Now!"

Depressing the triggers of both her weapons, she raked the Neuroi with magically enhanced 7.92 ammunition that slammed into the creatures hide; the twin German Machineguns roaring as the rounds left them at high rates of fire. The alien shrieked as it flew into the path of Gertrudes gunfire, its Honeycomb hide gradually being shot off. Gertrude continued firing, not giving the beast a chance to breath. At last, a large portion of the Nueroi's armoured shell was gone, exposing its core. Gertrude's saddlemags were starting to run empty, and the barrels of her weapons began turning red hot by this stage, but with the enemy's weak point exposed, she wasn't about to let up. The Neuroi Core was shredded by Gertrude's machinegun fire, the delta wing silhouette exploding in a brilliant flash of white light. She flew through the shinning white shards that once were part of the creature's body that now fell to Earth.

"Gotcha."

Before Barkhorn could have an opportunity to enjoy the victory of her kill, a voice on her comlink interrupts her thoughts.

"Trude! Trude behind you, bogey on your six o-clock!"

A Neuroi laser came close to grazing her and quickly Barkhorn is on the defensive. Glancing quickly behind her, she saw another Neuroi, this one was larger then the one she shot down, and had a wide flat disc-like shape. The Neuroi fired a barrage of laser beams that Gertrude skilfully dodged. She relays a message to Erica Heartman, her wingman.

"Heartmann, try and get this Neuroi off my tail will you? !"

"I'm on it Trude!"

Barkhorn cursed her recklessness. In hindsight, getting too far ahead of your wingman while engaging the enemy will give his comrades an opening to attack. She dodged laser fire and began gaining more speed as she flew. But the Neuroi kept on her. Barkhorn quickly went over a few Ariel combat maneuvers in her head, but because of her dwindling ammo and the fact she was starting to feel slightly fatigued, the best maneuver for her to use would be the Defensive spiral.

Breaking right, Barkhorn started performing the Defensive spiral, spiralling downwards towards the ground. The Neuroi mirrored Barkhorn and spiralled round her by about fifteen feet. Gertrude noticed the buildings of the town and got another idea. She and her alien adversary continued to spiral around in their decent, the pair jousting with one another at high speeds. Barkhorn felt the G-forces on her body as she spiralled closer to the ground. Once she was close enough to the ground, she skimmed the rooftops of the buildings, the Neuroi coming out of its spiral and continued its pursuit of the Captain. She flew close to the sides of buildings, skimming over rooftops and passing close to chimneys in a bid to lose her persistent pursuer.

She continued with this particular battle plan, the Neuroi occasionally firing a laser burst, but doing so less frequently in order to maneuver around the buildings that both it and Barkhorn were flying close to. After a minute of this, Gertrude was fast approaching a three story inn that appeared to have two chimneys stacked very close to each other. She saw that they were just far enough apart for her to fly through, but too small for her perusing enemy. She began lining herself up to thread the needle. This would be her only shot to gain some distance and possibly gain the upper hand.

The Chimneys were 25 yards away.

She started pushing for more speed from her striker; the magic engines output being maxed out. The reciprocating engines of the air strikers were roaring loudly.

Then they were 20 yards.

She held her arms and weapons at her sides, maximising her aerodynamics by reducing her drag and to ensure that she would squeeze through the small gap.

Now they were 15 yards away.

Gertrude could hear the Neuroi murmur behind her and fired a shot that came close to grazing her head, but she was unflinching, concentrating on her goal: fly between the chimneys of this inn that she was flying headlong into at top speed.

She was soon at 10 yards.

Erica could be heard over the comlink, speaking with a worried tone. "Trude, I know what are your doing and that's a dangerous manuver!"

Barkhorn didn't reply. Her eyes locked in front of her as the obstacle drew closer.

5 Yards and counting.

"Trude, I have the Neuroi in my sight. Please be careful, okay?"

Gertrude smiled. _Funny that she worries about me almost as much as I do for her...she may be a lax, lazy, messy pilot..._

Gertrude passed through the two chimneys perfectly, the ace of Karlsland further solidifying her skill as an air-infantry witch of the Karlsland Luftwaffe, her smile growing into a grin.

_But I'm honoured to have her as my wing man._

Rolling onto her back while on the wing she can see the Neuroi crash into the two chimneys, the alien screeching angrily and appeared to be having difficulty staying air born. Barkhorn began gaining a huge amount of distance from her enemy, though now she noticed that was no longer necessary. Erica was now close behind the Neuroi and within firing range. Erica fired her MG42 at the alien as it bleated in protest. The aliens hide was shot away and inevitably its core was exposed and destroyed.

"Enemy eliminated Trude."

Barkhorn saluted Heartmann with a look of pride on her face. "Good work Heartmann, you did a damn fine job."

Then something happened that puzzled Barkhorn: Eica's face changed from smiling and jovial to fearful. Erica yelled to the Captain.

"TRUDY! LOOK OUT!"

"Huh? !"

Right in the middle of turning around to see what had started worrying Heratmann, Barkhorn felt something heavy and concrete connect with her body. Her shield wasn't raised, she wasn't aware of the danger she was approaching and impacted it while on her side. She had smashed through a brick chimney and was tumbling like a rag doll through the air, losing altitude as she did. She felt another impact as she slammed into the side of a house about fifteen yards away from her initial point of impact, into its second story floor where the top of the roof and side of the house met. She felt her body banging through bricks, wood framing and plaster walls of a few rooms before slamming into the wall of a room in the opposite side of the dwelling, until finally slamming onto the floor.

Her body was badly broken, and she had pieces of glass, wood and other such shrapnel imbedded in her body. She felt such tremendous pain everywhere. Her arms felt like bones were broken in both her upper and lower arms, and the shoulder that impacted the chimney from earlier felt like it was dislocated. She had a few fractured ribs and once she started to cough up blood, she realized she might have had some other internal injuries. Her hips felt like they shattered, and she wasn't sure but she may have also had a concussion. All this added to various cuts, scrapes and fresh bruises on top of which was a large gash on her head which was flowing blood, trickling into her right eye, all of which spoke volumes into how badly injured she was. In seconds Gertrude had gone from "A-Okay without a scratch" to "In need of serious medical intervention".

She could hear Erica's voice over the comlink, screaming hysterically trying to get a response from the older Karlslander.

"TRUDE! TRUDE ARE YOU OKAY? ! PLEASE SAY SOMETHING! SAY SOMETHING TRUDY!"

Gertrude tried to say something, but she could barely even keep herself conscious, much less say so much a single syllable. The only thing to escape her was a weak, painful moan.

"Hold on Trude I'm-Ack!" Erica's voice faltered and the sound of laser fire could be heard on the open radio channel, the sudden horrific thought of Erica in danger snapped Barkhorn to reality just enough that she'd try to force herself back up to fly. It proved to be an ill advised move as the second she tried to get up her body was wracked with unbearable pain. Sinking back to the floor, Barkhorn lay limp and unmoving, both MG42's still clutched in her grasp, albeit weakly.

Erica's voice thankfully sounded over the radio, but it sounded as though she were in a heavy dog fight. "S-so many Neuroi! Don't worry Trudy, I'll lead them away from you and get someone to help, if you can hear me just stay put okay?"

Barkhorns vision began to blur and darken, her eyelids becoming heavy to hold open. The pain she felt was unbearable and thoughts of both the other girls in the 501st and her darling sister Chris needing her pained her heart. They needed her, and now she couldn't help them.

But something else popped into her head as she lay in her semi-conscious, pain filled state: _Ghost...and Roach...need my help. I promised Ghost...I made a promise..._

She took a shaky breath as her head tilted lazily to her side, the room spinning and turning darker still, with the sounds of battle raging dimly in her ears. As she began to black out, her finale thoughts were of that of a fellow soldier from another world. The disciplined man of the Task Force who held secrets and was his namesake, but was a man, in just this short time of meeting that she had come to respect.

_A disciplined solider of Karlsland...always keeps their promises..._

Finally, her world grew dark...

* * *

><p>A bit of an authors note is that<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Ghost led the squad through the village with the Land Witch Jenna sliding next to him with the rest of the squad following suit. Dunn Carried Darya and was situated in the center of the group, Foley, Ramirez and Roach defending the two of them from danger should it arise. The five men panted heavily as they traversed the battle scarred city streets.

The sounds of battle were still thundering in the skies above the village as the 501st and members of the 78th Reserve Witches continued to battle Neuroi. About several miles out from the village was the field that held the key location that brought Ghost, Roach, Foley, Dunn and Ramirez to this world of aliens, magic and unconventional warfare. The open field was of key importance and needed protection, while the village was a key secondary objective, both strategically and in regards to protecting the civilian population, at least any remaining civilians that hadn't evacuated yet.

The squad occasionally moved through buildings and sometimes found a few they had to move through occupied by those who stayed and hid in their domiciles. The squad usually didn't linger for long, exiting the building as soon as they entered, only taking the time to move through the rooms and pardon their intrusion to the people who took shelter within. The majority of the people who hid in the houses of the village seemed frightened by the five strange visitors, unsure of what to make of them. Many showed concern for Darya, whom many could see she was wounded in battle, but the five men promised that they would take care of her.

After about five minutes of this the squad had come to an intersection in the center of town. Everyone took a knee save for Jenna, who stood fast and scanned the groups surroundings for impending danger, and Darya whome was being carried by Dunn. Fortunately they managed to avoid any unnecessary battles with the Neuroi, concentrating on getting Darya somewhere safe.

Foley looked down each street in the intersection before turning to Ghost.

"So you know where we're going Ghost?"

Ghost was silent, seemingly not hearing Foleys voice.

"Ghost?"

"Hrm?" Ghost turns to Foley, finally acknowledging the American.

"I said do you know where we're going?"

"Not really, no."

"What?"

Dunn blinks. "Hold on what do you mean "Not Really?"

"I'm trying to remember how we got into this village, but the problem is I can't find any discernable landmarks."

Dunn groans. "Oh wonderful; we're lost."

Darya quietly speaks. "I have a map."

Ghost extends his hand to Darya. "Can I have a look at it for a sec?"

Darya nods and takes the map out of her breast pocket and hands it over to the Task Force operator. Ghost quickly unfolds the map and studies it, with everyone else huddling around to get a better look. Ghost study's the map trying to find out where they we're before finding the small township on the map given to him.

"Cutro, that's where we are right?"

Darya nods. "Yes, the magical epicentre is between Curtro and Rosito."

"Okay, then, so I guess we just keep heading northwards and we might be able to get clear of the town." Ghost then moves his finger along several of the roads depicted on the map, thinking of an ideal route to follow. "Just have to follow these roads here; cut through a few of these buildings around this particular grid and we'll be home free."

Roach gestures to the map. "So that's the plan?"

"That's it."

Ramirez exhales. "Seems like a bit of a trek to me."

Jenna scoffs. "You'd rather sit in this road all day? We still have Neuroi to eliminate, and the sooner we get Darya out of here the sooner I can get back to send those alien bastards straight to hell!"

Foley thumbs his chin thoughtfully. "With all these Neuroi out here you might get a chance while we are exfiling."

Dunn turns to Foley with a look of dread as he holds Darya. "Sarge, please don't jinx us."

Before Foley could retort, a panicked voice is heard on the comms channel. The squad quickly realize that it's Erica, and the news she brings isn't good.

"S-somebody! Trude has been downed! I have Neuroi all over me and I can't get to her! She crashed into a chimney and she's might be really hurt, she didn't raise her shield! Somebody please help her!"

Ghost suddenly freezes. Gertrud Barkhorn, the only witch that had thus far earned the trust of the Task Force operators was downed in the battle zone, condition unknown but presumed critical and is currently alone at this point. Simon's instincts started to scream at him to go rescue Barkhorn. The feeling he felt was strange, he couldn't quite place it. Was it Concern? It might have, but to him it felt like it might have been much stronger than mere concern. He finally befriended someone in this world, someone that he could place his trust in as an alley that could help him and Roach back home.

He remembered that if he and Roach decided to go their separate ways to find Barkhorn the three Rangers would only be left with Jenna for protection, with Darya in tow and out of commission without her weapon. But whenever he tried to rationalize this as a reason to stay with the others and keep going, something was telling him otherwise. As much as he felt he should see Darya to safety, the feeling he felt to go protect a potentially wounded Barkhorn was stronger.

"Ghost here, what's her location Heartmann?"

"She crashed into a house about twenty five feet away from the chimney she hit! Before that she passed between two chimneys of an inn."

Other voices belonging to Yoshika and Lynne also chimed in.

"The Captain's hurt? ! Lynne we have to help find her so I can heal her!

"But we're too far out Yoshika; we'll never get to her in time!"

Ghost turned to Roach and locked eyes with his Sergeant. The younger man calmly returned the Lieutenants intense gaze with one of anticipation. The look that Ghost had given him was one that he knew all too well. It was a look that Roach knew that meant that nothing was going to come between Ghost and his objective. Whatever the British Lieutenant had in mind; they were going to do it.

"I know that look, sir."

"You with me Roach?"

Roach nods. "Roger, I'm with you sir."

Ghost turns to Foley, Ramirez and Dunn as he folds the map. "You three think you'll be able to do okay without either of us?"

"Going off to save that Barkhorn girl I take it?" Foley asks.

Ghost nods silently in response, eliciting an amused chuckle from the American Sergeant.

"Alright then English, the rest of us will get Darya out of here. Just watch yourself out here."

"Same to you lot..." He pauses as he studies the three Rangers, until at last he seems to nod in what appears to be approval. "I guess you're an alright bunch. You three take good care of that girl, understood?"

Dunn gives a cocky smile. "Damn right we will Ghost. We won't let anything happen to her."

Ghost turns to Roach, placing the map he had in one of his pockets. "Roach lets go."

Roach gives a quick nod to Ghost, grinning as he pulls his balaclava back over his mouth. "Roger sir."

* * *

><p>The Rangers watched Ghost and Roach swiftly get to their feet and start running down a street headed Westwards before turning left down an intersection about five blocks down. Once the two Task Force Soldiers are out of sight, Foley turns to Ramirez and gestures from the private to the left side of the street at a three story house.<p>

"Ramirez! On point, we're cutting through that building over their! Let's go!"

"Roger that Sarge!"

As Ramirez gets to his feet, Jenna motions for him to stop as she sternly eyes the three men.

"No. I'll take point, you three stay behind me. Besides, I'm of a senior rank."

Ramirez blinks. "Huh?"

"I said: Stay behind me."

"Uuhhhhh." Ramirez stairs at the Liberion tank witch for a moment before he turns to Foley with a confused look. Usually Foley, another Senior NCO or an Officer would be giving him orders, so he and the other Ranger's weren't used to being giving orders and commands from someone who was only just entering puberty. Ramirez not only looked like he was at a loss, he felt like it too.

Foley frowns, his gaze resting on the Private. "RAMIREZ. Take. Point." The order was emphasised as Foley spoke to the Private.

Jenna's head snaps angrily to Foley, though her voice is addressing Ramirez. "Belay that Private! I'm on point."

Foley's gaze shifts to Jenna, and it's clear to Dunn and Ramirez that sparks are going to fly. Ramirez gulps audibly while Dunn mutters something to himself quietly.

"Pardon me miss, but Private Ramirez is MY man. I'm the one who gives the orders for men of Hunter-21, not you."

"That's Sergeant MAJOR to you Sergeant! I don't recognise this Hunter-21 that you're talking about, but I outrank you, and you're going to follow my orders, is that clear?"

Foley inhales, trying to keep calm while talking to this young witch. She may have been higher rank then him, but she still had the mind and attitude of a teenager.

"Listen-"

Jenna cuts him off. "No you listen! Your conventional soldiers, and against Neuroi you'd be vaporised in a heartbeat. And because you're carrying a member of MY squad, it's my duty to make sure that she and the thickhead tasked with carrying her around don't get their asses fried by wandering around out here! You'll do as I say and follow my orders, I don't care what reality you're from."

Dunn squints at the Liberian witch indigently. "Thickhead?"

Then she adds coldly: "If any Neuroi get in our way, we're going to kill em."

Suddenly feeling his patience wax a little, Ramirez rolls his eyes. "Oh, yeah, sure, what are we gonna be fighting them off with? In case you hadn't noticed..." He leans forward towards Jenna. _"Sergeant MAJOR..."_ he adds sarcastically. "It's not like we have bottomless magazines here ya know! Hell, I'm down to four M4A1 mags, plus one in my weapon, 2 frags and a single, one shot AT-4. I've been through a lot of shit before, but even this is a stretch!"

Ramriez mutters under his breath. "Rather have that Lucchini girl bothering me then this bullshit."

Foley nods. "As much as I want to kick those Neuroi in the ass if they have any, it would be in our best interest if we avoid fighting them unless we have to. What you're suggesting will just put us in more trouble than any of us can handle. Hooah?"

Foley studies Jenna, noticing that she has one of her hands balled angrily in a fist. However, Darya speaks to her squad mate, trying to give the land witch peace of mind.

"I know your angry, comrade Jenna. And I know why."

Jenna stairs at Darya in surprise, as do the three Rangers as she continues.

"It's not your fault; you needn't blame yourself for what happened to me. Let these men help us, Jenna, they might know things we don't."

Jenna finally hangs her head slightly, ashamed that she had let her emotions get the better of her. She just couldn't stand a fellow witch in such a condition.

"I'm...sorry..."

The three Rangers exchange glances before a collective sigh is heard escaping them. They can't stand staying mad at the girl. If either one of them was in her position: a friend hurt this badly by the enemy, any one of them unable to do anything, they'd be mad too.

Foley finally approaches the young witch that stood before the squad and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know we're newbie's in this world, and that we probably have a hard time trying to fight here against your enemy. But that doesn't mean we can't do what's needed to be done. And right now, what's needed is for us to get Darya to safety. We know how to take care of High Value Individuals, and currently, Darya is it."

Jenna looks up at the Sergeant, taken aback by the fact that he was so earnest.

"...alright. If you know better ways of keeping Darya safe...then I'll listen to you."

"Thank you, Sergeant Major." Foley turns to Ramirez and Dunn and motions for them to move out. "Let's get going then."

"Hooah!" The Dunn and Ramirez reply in unison.

With that, the squad advances to the building, hoping to find concealment and shorter routes to their rally point.

* * *

><p>Ghost is running briskly across streets, passing sidewalk after sidewalk. The only thing on his mind is to get to Barkhorn as quickly as possible. His feet pound the stone pavement, bounding over debris and holes that litter the village. As he runs he is constantly taking in his surroundings: searching for any landmarks that sound close to what Erica had described to him. Meanwhile, Roach follows behind, panting and wheezing as he tries to keep up with Ghost. The younger Task Force Operator is slowly lagging behind Simon despite the fact he was at full stride.<p>

The two Soldiers of the Task Force continue on like this for about a little over seven minutes, but as of yet they still haven't found where Barkhorn had crashed. Ghost stops dead in the street, hunched over trying to catch his breath. Roach finally catches up and dose the same. Ghost stands fully erect and quickly digs the map out of his pocket.

"God damnit, where the hell are we? !"

"I don't...know...sir..." Roach pants between syllables, having difficulty catching his breath.

Ghost unfolds a section of the map and quickly studies it again. He begins taking his time while reading it, trying to find out if they were even on the right street. Walking over to the next block with Roach following, he checks a nearby street sign and finds that they should be close, but he's still not sure.

Roach looks down at the map in Ghost's grasp curiously. "Are we close Ghost?"

"We should be, but from where we are I'm not sure which of these buildings Barkhorn initially collided with. Could be any one of these houses for all we know."

"Well that could be a problem. Most of these buildings all look alike."

Ghost silently ponders. "I wonder... maybe if we find that inn first, we might be able to get an idea of where Barkhorn is."

Roach scans the building in the village, trying to get his bearings. Once his head turns to their front, he notices something in the distance: the silhouette of a large building that appeared to have two chimneys. He nudges Ghost and points at the buildings darkened outline.

"Hey Ghost, you think that could be it?"

Ghost looks up from the map and follows Roaches' pointing finger until he sees the building, placing the map back in his pocket. Judging from the buildings silhouette, it might have had two chimneys, or at least what was left of them.

"I think it just might Roach. Sure looks like it. What say we go get a better look?"

The two men double time down the street towards that large building that had two chimneys. After running for seven blocks, they eventually reach the three story structure. Over the front door is a small sign that read: "La Rosa Bella", and inside they could see that it was indeed an inn. Ghost took a few steps back and scrutinised the entire building, noting that on the ground appeared to be several pieces of mortar and brick belonging to the chimney, as well as some clay roof shingles strewn about. From what Ghost could gather, it was the same inn that Barkhorn flew between the chimneys of, which means that they are probably getting close to her initial collision point.

"This looks like it's the Inn alright. Whatever was following Barkhorn took a nasty hit into the chimneys."

Ghost turns down the street, his eyes continuing from building to building. About another five blocks away, Ghost can barely notice a building with what appeared to have a taller chimney then the others. It would have been taller still if half of it wasn't missing...

"Wait a tick...is that..." Ghost abruptly takes off running again, his mind focused on getting to the building in question.

Roach finds his LT getting a head start and attempts to follow. "H-hey Lieutenant, wait up!"

Both men run down the street, though as they do, they can hear the sounds of a dog fight happening between an Air Infantry witch and a Neuroi at high altitude above them. Both of them only glance up a moment to look but continue on to their objective. Eventually they reach the building in question: a type of middle class house. The both notice that the bricks that made up the top of the chimney were strewn all over the street for about three or so yards, extending away from the building in question in such a way that would indicate a high speed crash. Ghost knew that this is where Barkhorn had her collision.

"She impacted here." Ghost's head soon turned from the roof of the house to further down the street. He dashed to the other side of the road to get a better look as Roach stood and watched him doing so. Ghost now notices that a building about five houses down from the one with the damaged chimney had a large hole in it facing to two men of the 141, the hole being slightly bigger then Roach in size. "There, that has to be it! She's in their Roach!" Ghost says as he points towards the building in question.

Roach makes a low whistle. "Damn that looks like it was pretty fucking rough. You think she's alright?"

Ghost glares at Roach impatiently. "Come on Roach, move your fucking ass already! We've got to get to her and fast."

"Urm...r-right. Roger sir, I'm on you."

The two men advance cautiously towards the house and slowly approach the front door. Roach, being first on point at this stage, try's to open the door, jiggling the door-knob but finding it locked. He struggles to open it for a few seconds before finally giving up.

"Mother Fucker, it's locked!"

"Move."

Moving Roach aside and now standing before the locked door, Ghost tightens his grip on his ACR and tenses his body. He takes a deep breath, and swiftly kicks the door with his foot with all his strength. The first attempt doesn't do much, only serving to scuff the paint of the door. Ghost takes a moment to recover and try's again, grunting as he kicks. The door jars a little and the door frame seems to give a bit, but is still standing fast. Ghost quickly follows up again, this time not even waiting to recover, his already strained patience running thin. Third time's the charm: At last the door breaks open, swinging into the domicile and a piece of the door frame breaking along with it. Ghost now finds himself stepping into a dark, poorly lit room with a living area on the right and a set of stairs on the left.

Ghost calls into the dimly lit house. "Captain Barkhorn? It's Ghost and Roach. Are you alright?"

There is no answer from the Karlsland Ace.

"Barkhorn?"

Ghost slowly walks towards the stairs with Roach following close behind. Roach quickly clears the adjacent room before he follows Ghost up the stairs. The floor boards and steps of the stairs creek under their feet with each and every step and upon reaching the top of the stairs, Ghost notices and quickly inspects the hole in the house that he noticed while outside. Debris had trailed in from the point of impact. He turns to the right, and what he sees knocks him for a loop: Through the holes of several walls, Ghost can see Barkhorn laying at the opposite end of the house, at rest limply against a wall and unmoving.

"Good god..."

Ghost quickly runs down the hall until he reaches the room that had Barkhorn inside. Opening the door and walking into the room, Ghost slings his ACR over onto his back and takes a knee next to the unmoving Karlsland witch. Up close, he can see clearly the extent of the damage; she was badly wounded and bleeding. Ghost slowly places his middle and index finger upon her neck, searching for a pulse. A part of him hesitates as he does, unsure if he will find any life in the broken young witch. He hears Roach slowly entering the room, his footsteps are slow. Roach stands close behind Ghost and looks over at Barkhorn. The young Sergeant watches silently, his apprehension rivalling that of Ghost's.

"Is she...I mean..." Roach fumbles his words trying to say something, but he is hesitant in asking what both men are dreading.

After what seems to be an eternity, Ghost exhales at last. "She's alive, but she's unconscious."

Roach blinks. "R-really? She's still alive." Roach scrutinises Barkhorn for a moment silently. Briefly he turns to the hole in the opposite end of the room, looking through the other holes made in the building through it, gesturing at the heavily damaged wall. "Even after going through all that?"

Ghost shakes his head in disbelief. "Yeah I know. I guess she's a hell of a lot tougher then I first thought. But she's still hurt bad."

Ghost slowly holds Barkhorns face in his hands and strokes her cheeks. "Barkhorn. Wake up. Wake up." Ghost can feel a knot forming in his gut, and it was confusing him. Why was he feeling this worried? "Come on kid, wake up will ya?"

To his surprise, Roach can see genuine concern coming from Ghost. For the time that Gary had known him Simon was always cold, distant and a little stand-offish. And he had seen the Lieutenant say and do a lot of things that made him shudder. This was a side of Simon that he had a hard time trying to invision, a part of him that even Ghost thought was long since dead. While Roach knew that Simon cared for the members of the 141 either he didn't show it, or he expressed it differently than everyone else. Now Roach was starting to see Ghost act...a little different than normal. And it was...weird; pure and simple.

Slowly, Barkhorn began to stir. A low, painful moan rolled off her lips as she slowly raised her head as her eyes slowly opened. Her eyes finally focused and rested on Ghost, her confusion clearly evident.

"Ghost?"

"Welcome back kid."

Barkhorn's eyes darted to the left and right at Ghost's hands cradling her cheeks, her face turning a bit pink. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Waking you up. Miyafuji and Bishop are still enroute but I'll try and do what I can to help you along until they get here." Ghost quickly digs out his emergency medical field kit and sets it on the floor. "How are you feeling Captain?"

"Everything hurts; I had a hell of a crash." Her head turns to her dislocated shoulder as she tries to move. "I think my shoulder got dislocated from hitting the chimney."

Ghost nods. "Welp, looks like I'll have to reset it, you just stay still a moment, alright?"

"You know how to do that?"

"I've done it once or twice. Even had it done on myself once?" Ghost pushes up his sunglasses. "I can get it set for you, though it will hurt a lot."

Barkhorn gives Ghost a questioning look. "Can't Miyafuji heal it when she gets here?"

Ghost sighs. "Probably, but I have to set it quick because if we wait, it will hurt a hell of a lot worse until I get it set, and even if I do now, the pain will be a bitch." Ghost pauses a moment as he study's Barkhorns dislocated shoulder. "I'm guessing this is your first dislocation?"

"Y-yeah, why?"

"Might have to worry about a few complications...but I think Miyafuji can heal those up after I get this set. It's an Anterior Dislocation which is the more common type, easiest to fix." Ghost shifts his gaze momentarily, feeling uncomfortable about attempting the procedure. "It'll hurt quite a bit, but right after its set, the pain will go away. If you want me to, I'll get it done."

Gertrud nods unflinchingly. "Do it."

Ghost nods in reply and gently he takes Barkhorn's shoulder into his grasp. The stinging pain at Ghost's touch causes her to wince painfully despite it being gentle, a sharp breath being inhaled as she prepares herself mentally for Ghost to conduct the procedure. Normally such a treatment had to be done with the patient standing or lying down, but because of the extent of Barkhorn's wounds, Ghost had to settle for her sitting up. He studies her shoulder one last time and prepares to set it.

"Right..."

With a sudden motion Ghost sets Barkhons shoulder, her arm making a loud "Crack" upon being set. The pain during the procedure made Barkhorn yelp as the sudden stabbing in her shoulder assailed her but immediately after the pain begun to relive a bit. She groaned through gritted teeth. Ghost slowly released his hold on her.

"...there. That should do it. Got it set on the first go, thankfully." He quickly digs out a Syrette and injects Morphine into her leg; hopefully to relive any pain she was feeling. Once that was done, he took out some bandages that he had left and began to bandage the cut on her head that was bleeding steadily. "I'll get any cuts you have bandaged up so you don't bleed out. It'll be a stop gap measure though, at least until Miyafuji gets here to fix you up."

Barkhorn can feel the effects of the Morphine shortly, the pain slowly beginning to dull a little. She sighs as she begins at assess her situation. She knew that because of her recklessness, she has yet another crash to add to her military career, and this was one of the worse ones. She chuckles quietly, the only solace she felt was that while her pride may have been as banged up as her body, at least she wasn't shot down and that she is still alive after taking such massive injuries.

"I guess I really messed up this time, huh? I didn't have my wing man in my line of sight, I should have known better."

As Ghost continues to bandage Barkhorns head he speaks to her. "How many times have you crashed Barkhorn?"

The young witch scoffs. "A dozen I think."

"A dozen? Man, Heartmann wasn't kidding when she said you push yourself too hard."

"Yes, but don't tell her I said that. She gives me a hard time already with the spills I had before. It would be embarising for a seniour officer to be chastised by a subordanet."

Ghost laughs. "Well whatever doesn't kill you will make you stronger. And judging from what I can see, you're pretty damn strong."

Gertrud blushes. "Th-thank you, Lieutenant."

Once Ghost is finished bandaging Gertrud's head, he slowly starts to remove the foreign debris embedded in her skin carefully, using a set of tweezers from the medical kit. Gertrud coughs occasionally, and on her last cough she brings up blood. Ghost and Roach exchange worried glances. They knew that someone coughing up blood often meant internal injuries of some kind. But because of dwindling medical supplies, all they could do was make sure she as comfortable and safe as possible until Yoshika and Lynnette arrive. After a while, Ghost finally removes the foreign debris imbedded in Gertrude's skin, and uses an antiseptic in his kit to sterilize the wounds.

"There. That ought to about tide you over until Miyafuji gets here. Until then you rest."

"That isn't an order is it?"

Ghost laughs again. "More like a recommendation. You might outrank me, but I've seen and done quite a bit to know when to take it easy after getting fucked up this bad."

Gertrude studied Ghost for a moment curiously. Since she would be unable to fight for the time being, perhaps she can learn a little more about the men whom she had earned the trust of.

"Like what? What things have you done Ghost?"

"Well, I'm former SAS. What? Can't use your imagination?"

"If I'm going to help you, then I think I'm entitled to know what your history is like?"

Ghost exhales steadily. Though this girl was starting to grow on him a little bit, he wasn't sure it was time just about yet to be telling her the whole story of his life. The things he had been through were messy to be sure. However, if he didn't give her something, would she just wash her hands of him and Roach and sell them out?

"How about some recent history what say? For now I'll tell you that much."

"I suppose that's a start."

Ghost gives a quick nod as he rests up against the wall. "To start off, Roach and I were under the command of Captain John McTavish back home. He was an SAS man just like I was, though his specialty was sniping and Demolitions. My bread and butter was at infiltration, stealth, evasion techniques and interrogation skills. Still, he was very good in his particular skill set. When he started he was an F.N.G. under the command of a man named Captain Price. He fought in the Second Russian civil war; lasted from 2011 to 2016, instigated by a man named Imran Zakhiaev. Zakhiaev hated western countries a lot, but that's another story."

Ghost goes into one of his pockets and pulls out a cigarette and lighter. Gertrude frowns as Ghost lifts up his balaclava just enough to expose his mouth and lights up; she could never stand the bad habit of smoking. It wasn't healthy. Ghost takes a long drag on the cigarette, the tip of the small white stick glowing red, smoke wafting around his head, his five o'clock shadow noticeable.

"Anyways, jump to about two days ago, leadership of the Ultranationalist movement had transferred a year ago from the now dead Zakhiaev to a single man: Vladimir Makarov. Thing with Makarov was that he given a position in the movement after he conducted a pretty brutal "cleansing" raid while in the Russian Army. The resulting inquiry made him step down from military service and after conducting terrorist and other criminal activities was allowed a seat in Zakhiaev's little "anti-west" party. Zakhiaev kept the bastard in check, but once he was dead and gone...well... there was no one left to hold the leash of a mad dog killer."

Gertrude is silent as Ghost speaks, listening carefully to the Lieutenant's words while he gave an overview of a man who sounded like a sort of villain you would find in a dime store novel.

"The thing about two day's ago, however is that we sent in a new member of the 141, a Ranger PFC named Joseph Allen; he was sent deep undercover at the behest of the CIA to infiltrate the Russian Ultranationalist movement to try and get close to Makarov. Unfortunately Allen gets killed just after Makarov and his men commit a large scale massacre of Zakhiaev international airport. Allen was forced to be a part of that OP to boot."

"Massacre?"

"That's right luv. Hundreds of civilians and several dozen FSB troops and Airport security go from living to dead in a matter of minutes." Ghost takes the cigarette from his mouth and exhales the warm smog from his lungs and into the air, the cloud slowly dissipating as it rises above his head. It's clear that Ghost relishes this rare opportunity to smoke. Ever since becoming his call sign, so to speak, he found the habit enjoyable. He knew that it wasn't a healthy habit and if it became chronic or if he degraded to chain-smoking that his health and performance as a solider would deteriorate, so he only partook in this activity sparingly, but whenever he did light up a stick, he enjoyed it.

Roach sighs and leans up against the wall as well, his voice becoming thoughtful. "Yeah... I wonder what Allen was thinking as he had to go along with all that garbage just to maintain his cover."

"I've wondered more about what he felt as he was doing it. Not even something I'd think about doing myself." Ghost returns the cigarette to his lips and takes another drag, the tip's ash burnt end growing steadily. His mind now had a chance to reflect on the events of that day as he shared world events from a more personal level to Gertrude. "I don't know how but Allen's cover must have been blown from either the start or just before Makarov had em on that OP."

Gertrude however was more focused on the fact that a Massacre took place to begin with. She couldn't imagine such a thing happening in the world that she had grown and fought in. _How can a person possibly commit such an atrocity? To kill others in such a barbaric fashion is sickening!_ Disgust was written clearly on the young Captain's face, and Ghost soon noticed it.

Ghost scoffs bitterly. "Yeah, my world isn't exactly a bed of roses isn't it? If we thought our world was bollixed up then it's pretty bollixed up now. " Ghost exhales again and taps his cigarette to remove the excess ash accumulating on the end, shortening the stick. "And unless Roach and I figure out what the Intel is on that DSM and get back to our world to fix what happened it's only going to get worse."

"I shudder to imagine how it can." Gertrude puts in.

"I guess Roach and I will find out once we find a way back, now wont we." Ghost takes one last drag and butts out the cigarette into the floor boards. Ghost suddenly smiles though it quickly disappears from behind his balaclava as he pulls it back down over his mouth. "But until then, we will have to make sure that you're safe as a bug in a rug 'til Miyafuji arrives and heals you up."

Gertrude blinks. "Isn't there more to what happened with you in your world?"

The sound of approaching rotator craft engines grabs the trio's attention. Ghost stand up and moves to the wall with the hole in it and looks through it. After a moment, Yoshika and Lynette fly through the hole in the other end of the house, calling out the Captain's name.

Ghost gestures over at the two girls as they slowly fly their way in. "It'll have to wait till later Captain Barkhorn. Looks like you're about to receive medical treatment."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Lambert was nervous. Standing silently at attention in the hallway of the administrative building of the base his mind was racing. A day after meeting the Rangers of the 75th Ranger Regiment, he was in hotter water then when he was fighting the Russian's with the rest of the reserve soldiers. Ever since the man he learned the name of, Sergeant Foley, had disappeared his superiors wanted answers. Every surviving Reservist and Ranger present at the appearance of the blue light that had enveloped the bridge and consumed Foley and two of his men had left many eyewitnesses. Once Lambert and the other survivors arrived at this Forward Operations Base they had all been confined to quarters once word was traveling that the three Ranger's had disappeared.

And for over an hour he was now standing in front of the office of the base commander. Two rangers from Foleys squad that were wounded were at this moment being questioned about the events that had transpired. Two guys named Laymen and Zander or so he thinks, though he can't really remember. He was never terribly good with names unless the person in question stood out. Mostly there had been muffled discussion behind the closed door that Lambert stood before. But as time dragged on, one of the voices had slowly started to become more heated, and the voices owner was now yelling by this stage. Another voice spoke out that sounded loud but restrained in tone and seemed to belong to one of the Ranger's, but had been cut off by the other voice. Lambert shuddered to meet the owner of the furious toned voice, though he knew it would be inevitable that he was going to.

At last a silence came and the door opened. Lambert see's Zander in a wheel chair with both legs heavily bandaged and an angry look on his face, sitting at attention and silent. There was a noticeable bite on his lower lip that appeared to be bleeding. Pushing him along was Laymen, his wounded arm bandaged in a cast and sling. He looked defeated and drained of energy. Pushing Zander past Lambert, his eyes cast a glance that seemed to warn that it was now Lambert's turn to walk into a proverbial shit storm.

A voice from inside the room the two men had left called out. "Sergeant Lambert. You may enter."

Lambert sighed and tried to mentally prepare himself. He found no reassurance and didn't feel less relaxed but he stepped in regardless. Once inside, he was met by the Base Commander; _Colonel_ Hughes. Lambert noticed two other people that stood at either side of the Coronel. One was a man who appeared to be well dressed in a dark blue suit with a black attaché case resting beside him. The other person was a uniformed woman in her early thirties with rectangular glasses and her hair in a bun holding several file folders, with a laptop on a desk resting in front of her. With their gaze resting solely on Lambert, the Coronel gestured towards a seat sitting in front of his desk.

"Take a seat soldier."

Lambert complied without objection. Once seated, he sat at attention. "Sir."

_Colonel_ Hughes rests with his back against his chair and his hands folded on his desk, his eyes studying Lambert. "I'm not sure if you're aware of the nature of this de-briefing Sergeant, so I'll dispense of any formalities right now and jump right into it: There has been word of some... incoherence in past events that have occurred while you and your men have been in engagement with the enemy. Right now both I and these two people who have accompanied me in my office are here along with you to try and sort out fact and truth from the bullshit. So we'd appreciate if you can help us gleam a better understanding of anything that has happened before arriving at this FOB".

Lamberts gaze shifts from the Colonel to the two people who stood on either side of the base commander, his confusion evident. He didn't know who they were or why they were here and he was quickly growing uneasy. "Sir, may I ask who these two people are?"

The Colonel gestures to the two people in question as he introduces them. "This gentleman is Agent Jones from the CIA and this is Lieutenant Colonel Keating from INSCOM, a bit of a prodigy in the intelligence community."

Lambert's eyes dart to either person as they are introduced. _CIA's getting involved? Crap, just how much trouble am I in?_ He was also surprised, if only by a lesser extent, that INSCOM officer Keating was a Lieutenant Colonel. Most people that held her rank were often in their mid to late forties if that.

The Colonel continued. "Now Lambert, what can you tell us about what happened to your unit."

"Do you want me to start at the beginning sir?"

"That will be fine, yes."

"Well sir, Captain Nells led us over a bridge and into the city for recon. We had contact with a few light patrols though over all we handled them easily. At one point we were pinned by a BTR until an Abrams Tank from the First Armoured showed up and flanked the BTR from the Rear. Pretty much saved our bacon at that point. I guess they got lost from their battalion or something."

"And what happened after your unit and the tank's crew made contact with one another what did the Captain order you all to do?"

"He ordered us to continue forward while the tank did some tank hunting sir. We also had artillery support for a while when we were in city limits."

"And at what time was this order given?"

"Um...roughly 07:20 sir. It wasn't until around 07:41 that we were hit hard by a Russian Regiment that was heavily reinforced. Heavy infantry, RPG team's, some mechanized infantry and a couple T-90's. Captain Nell's was the first hit, sniper off in one of the buildings managed to get a bead on him. Lieutenant Marks took over for a while until he was hit by an RPG, and as the fighting dragged on, I was the only one left who was in a position to lead the rest of the guys. All the other NCO's bought it from sniper fire or from the enemy flanking us a few times. We were effectively pinned."

Agent Jones addresses Lambert. "You said you had artillery support while in city limits?"

Lambert nods. "For a while sir, they let us move forward a little bit, but after a while they went silent. I don't know what happened to them but we lost artillery support and took heavy casualties as a result."

Lieutenant Colonel Keating turn's to the CIA agent briefly, taking out a page from her stack of papers and holding it up. "I was in charge of Intel gathering at the time, satellite imaging and radio transmissions that I was given indicate that the Artillery battery was hit by a roughly Platoon size force. In all likelihood we're thinking it was probably Spetsnaz."

Jones turns his attention back to Lambert. "And I'm guessing the tank was off tank hunting while your unit was being attacked?"

"No sir. Once we started taking heavy fire, the boy's in the Abrams linked back up with us and gave us some support. Without artillery the Abrams was the only thing keeping that Regiment from wiping us out any quicker than they were."

The agent from the CIA nodded and continued. "What happened when Sergeant Foley and his unit made contact with your unit?"

"Well, he asked for a sit-rep and I told him straight up we were getting hammered. Of course he wants to press _forward _but due to the situation at the time, that wasn't an option. So instead, he comes up for a plan for us to fallback the way we came. He asked if I had any C4, told him what I had, and tells me to rig the bridge we crossed on the way in to be blown. So I did just that, took a few guys to do that with as much explosive as we could carry."

Thiers a brief moment of silence as Agent Jones appears to become more sceptical before he addresses Lambert again. The tone of his voice when he speaks becomes probing in nature.

"Did you notice anything different regarding Foley or the men in his unit... anything out of the ordinary?"

The question puts Lambert off guard a little. "Not really. I did get the feeling that Foley was one of those "Sergeant Rock" type guys, but nothing other than that."

The agent leans over the side of the desk towards Lambert, the look of his eyes becoming as intense as that of a tiger stalking its prey. "Really? What happened when the Ranger's and your fellow reservists reached the bridge that you had rigged to blow?"

"I was ordered to get ready blow the bridge before the Russian's got too close."

Colonel Hughes speaks. "So your thumb was on the switch then."

"Yes sir."

The agent's eyes bore into Lambert, seemingly warning the man to speak cautiously. "What happened next solider, tell us."

Lambert hesitated. The part that the three of them wanted to have him explain would sound like the most grandiose of tall tales and he knew it. For a second he even thought about lying about what really happened. He reasoned they wouldn't believe him and if he told what really happened he could face any number of unwanted repercussions. But that thought disappeared as quickly as it came. He exhaled a long breath before continuing.

"When Foley and two of his men were halfway across the bridge at around 09:09 something... weird happened. There was this blue light and-"

Agent Jones immediately cut Lambert off, raising his hand sharply. "Listen, solider. I'm not sure you're full grasping the gravity of what we're doing. So I'm asking you: are you going to help us out and tell us just what happened?"

"I was in the middle of doing just that sir! There was a blue light and some sort of pentagram thing appearing in the center of the bridge, nearly blinded the hell out of me. Then Foley ordered me to blow the bridge while he and those two other Ranger's were still on it. I didn't really like doing it with those boys still on the damn thing but he insisted, so I did it. But right after I do, the three of them vanish in the light that the circle thing was emanating."

There was a moment of silence, Jones, Hughes and Keating looking completely straight faced. Lambert sat quietly, the air in the room growing heavy and silent enough to hear the proverbial pin drop.

Colonel Hughes sighs. "Look son, it would be a lot better for everyone if you just told us the truth about what happened to Foley and these two Rangers that were with him."

"But I am telling the truth Colonel."

"Bullshit!" The agent spat loudly and banged his fist against the desk. "Stop trying to cover their ass or your ass or whoever's ass you're trying to cover!"

"I'm not covering anyone! I know what I said sounds ridiculous but it's what happened!"

The agent angrily turns to Hughes and Keating and gestures to Lambert. "I can't believe someone like this actually made Sergeant in the armed forces!" Lambert took offence to that remark and the expression on his face showed it, but he kept his cool as Jones's head snapped back to face him. Lambert started wondering if this newfound courage he had would see him through this interrogation. As he rested in his chair, Lambert sat calmly as Jones started to tear into him.

"What the hell do you take me for? ! I wasn't born yesterday you fucking pissant! Either come clean or I'll see to it your military career ends today! SO QUIT LYING TO US AND TELL US WHAT THE HELL HAPPEND!"

"If I told you anything contrary to what I already told you, then I WOULD be lying! Besides, I'd have nothing to gain from lying. I have no reason, no motivation. So why the hell would I?"

Colonel Hughes leans forward in his chair and speaks with restrained annoyance. "Son, unless those three men are captured, dead or trapped behind enemy lines while cut off and completely surrounded, then we have reason to believe that they are AWOL. So unless you can give us information that fills that criteria, then they and anyone else present who aided them are in very serious trouble."

"Sir, I wasn't the only one there. Ask anyone else, any of my boys or any of the Rangers, they will tell you the same thing."

Keating, who was mostly silent the whole time, finally speaks as she exhales. "We know, Sergeant Lambert."Mildly confused, Lamberts eyes dart to Keating as she continues. "We've interviewed twenty five Rangers and fifteen Army Reservists so far and you make the sixteenth Reservist. They all say the same thing."

"So what, you think we're all lying then? That's insane."

The agent scoffs. "And you think what you guys told us up to this point is any less insane?"

Lambert takes a breath through his nose and rubs his forehead. He knows trying to argue his point will take him nowhere but he gives it one last shot. "Look, if you don't believe me or anyone else there at the time then that's your problem. I wouldn't believe what I said myself if I wasn't there to see it happening right in front of me but I know what I saw because I WAS there to see. You want to grill me for telling you all the truth, then grill me. My boys and I saw that wired shit on the bridge and that's what we're telling you what happened. That's the god honest truth."

Jones turns to the Colonel while pointing at Lambert. "We're wasting our time! This lying bastard isn't going to tell us anything, none of them are. All they are giving us is a bullshit story and no proof to back it up. Have JAG bring them all up on charges. Full Judicial Punishment on the grounds of obstruction and aiding deserters."

A sudden electronic ding from the laptop catches everyone's attention. "Sir." Keating speaks as her hand manipulated the touchpad.

The Coronel turns to the younger service woman. "What have you got for us Keating?"

"Finally received a set of satellite images taken between 0900 and 0920, the time the alleged event took place."

"So we can finally see what happened then."

"Yes sir."

"Very well then, bring it up."

Agent Jones glares at Lambert briefly as Lieutenant Colonel Keating brings up several photos on screen. As the three people in front of him hovered over the laptop, Lambert awaited his fate calmly. If the SatTrack got anything at just the right moment, then he hoped it would prove that he and the others spoke the truth. After a while of watching as Keating cycled through photos for Jones and the Colonel to see, he could see their expressions change. Even Jones and his sceptical, highbrow demeanour slowly began to evaporate as time dragged on. Seconds turned to minutes, and Lambert was sweating in the hot seat.

Eventually Colonel Hughes rubs his chin with his knuckle. He speaks reluctantly to Lambert. "Sergeant, it appears... as unbelievable as it is for the three of us to admit, that what you and those before you have said is true, surprisingly enough."

Agent Jones is unusually silent as the Colonel addresses Lambert, while the Sergeant silently celebrates that the CIA spook was finally shut up. He smirks a little, crossing his arms and relaxing in the chair. The truth prevails.

"So now what happens? Am I free to go?"

"Not quite, Sergeant."

Lamberts smirk disappears. "So am I going to be court-martialled?"

"If you were lying then you would be, but seeing as theirs evidence proving otherwise, no."

Lambert glances towards Hughes, Jones and Keating steadily, his confusion growing. "Then what's going to happen now sir?"

Lieutenant Colonel Keating turns the laptops screen to face the Sergeant. "Do you have any ideas in regards to what happened to the three Rangers that were enveloped by this anomaly?"

Lambert shrugs. "I don't know. From what I could tell, they just disappeared."

"We will need your help then Sergeant."

"Help how?"

"By figuring out what this anomaly is, where it came from, what it does and what it did to those three Rangers."

Lambert has a moment of pause as he thinks over his response. A part of him just wants to just get up out of the chair, say "I'll pass", and leave the room without looking back. He was judged, grilled and threatened throughout his entire time in this little interrogation, and he assumed, in all likelihood correctly, that the Reservists and Rangers before him had also received this treatment. Then again, Foley and his men proved to be a godsend for both Lambert and the other surviving Reservists. He started to feel like he owed it to the man to find out what happened to him and the two other Rangers. Finally he sighs and mops his face.

"Well, I don't know any more then what I told you already, but I guess I owe it to them to help figure out what happened to them, so I'm on board to help with that."

Colonel Hughes nods in approval. "Glad to hear it. You're dismissed for now Sergeant Lambert. Jones, Keating and I will need to consolidate."

"Yes sir, thank you sir." Lambert got out of his chair and exited the room. Upon closing the door behind him, his knees nearly buckled. He was a hairs breath away from getting court-martialled and shipped off to Leavenworth to make gravel. He let out a sigh of relief, having dogged a major bullet. Once he finally finds strength in his legs, he slowly walks down the hall and back to the barracks, ignoring the muffled conversation behind the door of the room he just left.

Walking down the hall this thoughts unexpectedly turn to his older brother, a Sergeant First Class in Delta with whom he had a falling out with after he was dishonourably discharged from service of his Delta Unit. The exact details were never known except only to Kieth Lambert, his older brother. He hinted a bit to his little brother Jay, but never went into details, only saying he got into hot water by following orders. After he was discharged, Sergeant Jay Lambert only heard from his brother only once, last year, saying something about finding a way to get back into the field and make a living again. But Jay knew that when his older brother was discharged, he changed. He was getting short tempered and more self centered. For a while he was in a deep depression. For one reason or another, Jay could sense that this new line of work that Keith was getting into was going to lead him down a very dark path.

Jay Lambert sighed and shook his head. He needed to sleep this whole thing off.

* * *

><p>The docks of Bushehr, in the country of Iran, were typically filled with cargo ships, the streets typically dotted with occasional native passersby living their daily lives in what was in their minds a typical day in a city of typical graffiti covered middle eastern housing in was what could be called the slums of this city, though that assumes that third world countries could even have slums. If they can then Soap had to wonder if the whole Middle East was just one giant, oversized slum. With the occasional "nice parts" separating the many "not-so-nice parts" only in being slightly less filthy and graffiti laden or left untouched (even if only sometimes marginally) by acts of warfare.<p>

He and Price barley escaped Disposal Yard 437 back in Afghanistan with their lives thanks to Nikolai, though they did lose members of the Task Force that went with them into the Boneyard, Rook being the last in a long list of good men who were now dead. Soap still had difficulty trying to process what had happened the day before. He, Price and Nikolai were held up in one of the several dozen worldwide safe houses that their Russian friend had stocked up. This one was a non-descript two story building not even a stone's throw away from the cargo ships that had docked along the shoreline, the air being cool, fresh and just a bit salty. Wasn't much to look at on the outside but the Russian informant had it well stocked: A small fridge filled with two week's worth of food, a wine cellar in the basement, an osculating fan in the corner of the main room, decent furniture, a plasma TV, expensive military grade laptop... and a secret room Nikolai had built filled with a whole arsenal of about a hundred different weapons and several tons of ammunition and explosives. The young Captain knew Nikolai must have been well off and well connected to have safe houses like this world wide, but he started to wonder just how well off the man was.

Soap tried taking a pull off of a Cigar or two a while ago: Villa Clara brand. It was a brand that Price favoured and when the old man was captured after "Operation Kingfish", Soap took to smoking them. He found them smooth, at one time noting that Price has good taste in tobacco. But today they didn't take the edge off. The cigars he burnt through were butted out in an ashtray on a table in front of him as he rested on a well worn sofa. Lying on the floor next to his foot was a bottle of Russian Vodka that was mostly empty.

Price enters the room briskly, carrying several documents and maps with him, casting them onto the table and retrieving the laptop.

"Come on son, drag yourself out of the gutter and get your act together alright? If we're going to get a handle on Sheppard and give him what's coming then we'll need to plan our next course of action."

Soap buries his head in his hands, groaning audibly enough to be heard. His head was pounding, clearly feeling the effects of having one more drink then he should have. His thoughts weren't helping the matter either.

"This is so fucking Bollixed, Price. Why the hell is this even happening?"

Price looks over to Soap briefly before returning his attention to the laptop. He carries it over to a desk before replying to the younger man.

"Right now I don't really care about why he did it, all that matters is that we respond to what he did."

Nikolai enters the room carrying with him a beer in one hand and an M9 pistol in the other. He takes a quick swig of his beer as he addresses the older man.

"True that, Captain Price. But do you think it be wise to be rushing headlong into this? We must take our time planning how we take Sheppard on trip to hell."

Price scowls. "I'm looking to take him out today, Nikolai. Rook and the others are dead because of that rotten bastard and he tried to stab us in the bloody back. I am not going to let that go unanswered."

Brining up a map of Afghanistan on the Laptop, Price starts trying to get a _satellite_ image of site Hotel Bravo. He wanted to have a layout of the landscape, the perimeter, everything that could be of use to them if they were going to conduct a mission.

"Mamba, OZ, Reaper, Gladius, Scarecrow and Ozone are confirmed KIA, there's no word yet on the location of Archer or Toad since last night, and both Roach and Ghost have fallen off of the face of the Earth. A few of the other members of the Task Force may be in hiding, but I'm not sure if they can help us at the moment. We're on our own, so we'll have to take Shepherd down ourselves."

Soap mops his face. "Are we really going to do this by ourselves, Price?"

"If we have to, Soap. I'm chomping at the bit to get this over with."

"Are you even sure we can trust the Intel that Makarov gave us?"

"It's all we've got, so I guess we'll have to find out when we put all this into motion."

Soap rolls the thought of going up against Shepherd and the men that he had around in his mind, though he had a few reservations. Those soldiers weren't ordinary ones, to be sure. Going up against them would mean you had to really have your shit together and not fuck up _at all_. A combat operators actions, movement, timing and skill had to be at the peak of perfection with a margin of 0% to make mistakes. In cases like this, if you do mess up, you're dead. It was that simple. Soap would follow Price wherever the old man went into whatever hell would await them. He respected him that much, right or wrong. But even though he would follow price to whatever end would lay ahead for them, his thoughts turning to Ghost and Roach make him take into account the need for another team, just as insurance...

"What about, Ghost and Roach sir? Ghost gave the message to Archer and Toad to clear out once Shepherd decided to kill them, and we never did pick up any radio transmissions confirming that they gotten slotted by Shepherds men yet."

Price looks at Soap with a questioning look. "What are you getting at son?"

"I know Ghost will want to get his hands around Shepherds throat like we do, so I think we wait until he and Roach can link up with us and we can hunt that sod down as a team."

"As much as I'd like the sound of that, we don't have a lot of time Soap. We can't waste a single second that we currently have, the sooner we bring to light the truth behind what has happened and Kill Shepherd then the sooner we can hunt down Makarov and clear our names."

"I know the two of us can do it alone if we had no other choice, and if Ghost and Roach were dead then I can see the two of us going ahead and doing so. But those two are still alive out their somewhere, and if he's still alive, I'd rather have Ghost on hand just to be on the safe side."

Nikolai places the pistol in his hand on the table and points with his beer hand at Soap. "He may have point Captain Price; an extra pair of body's out on battlefield would make things easier I think."

Price seems reserved at first, but then he thinks for a moment about their odds and the margins for error and the likely hood of getting in to tear Shepherd a new one. As rearing to go as he was, the thought of having a pair of extra hands to take the American man down was slowly starting to sound inviting, especially if one of the pair happened to belong to Ghost. After a few moments of silence, Price raises a single finger.

"One week. Those two have exactly one week to meet us here and join us for the big kick off. If they can't make it here in time or have gotten killed then we do this on our own. Not an hour more." He strokes his chin thought fully though once he remembers what Archer and Toad told him about what happened back at the Estate in the Cuscus Mountains. The sound of the two normally calm Snipers freaking out and rambling about a blue light that Ghost and Roach were standing in the middle of sounded highly abnormal. But in the end Price had a feeling that if Ghost managed to avoid getting killed this far, then he wouldn't let any freaky "Doctor Who" nonsense slow him down either. He only hoped Ghost's skill and sense of timing was spot on.

* * *

><p>"Hey Sarge, is it clear out their?" Dunn whispered quietly to Foley, hidden behind a partly destroyed wall of the building the squad was hiding in, still holding Darya in his arms.<p>

Briefly scanning the street in front of them, Foley nods. "Looks all clear, Dunn. Don't see any of those damn aliens anywhere."

Jenna exits the cover of the building and moves into the street. Looking around, she aims her cannon down a cross street, but lowers it upon confirming that it's clear of Neuroi. "Guess that's a good thing then. Alien cowards must be afraid of me."

Foley gets on the comm. and relays a message. "All Units, this is Sergeant Foley of Hunter-21. We've managed to get Darya to the outer edge of the AO and are now awaiting a status update, please send traffic."

A reply on the radio comes from Major Sakamoto. "Sergeant, I do not understand your terminology. Can you please use terms I can understand? What's your position?"

Foley curses and corrects his message."Sorry Major. We are currently just outside the combat zone and I'd like to request a Sitrep."

"We have the enemy on the run, Sergeant. Hostile enemy Neuroi have been eliminated with survivors in full retreat."

Jenna smiles in satisfaction. "That's good. We showed them whose boss."

Dunn chuckles and pumps his fist in a celebratory gesture. "Word up, dawg."

Jenna blinks and turns to Dunn, cocking her head in confusion at his statement. "What?"

"Word up. You know: Hell yeah? Damn right? Word up."

Thiers a moment of short silence before Jenna replies in confused deadpan. "You've lost me."

Dunn rolls his eyes, exasperated. "That's fucking obvious."

Foley silently shakes his and relays another message. "Ghost, its Foley. What's your status? Have you found that young Captain yet?"

Ghost's voice responds over the radio channel. "Roger. Roach and I have found her and we have her secured in the building she came to rest in after her collision. Miyafuji is healing her as we speak. Hopefully Captain Barkhorn will be back in shape shortly."

"Glad to hear that Lieutenant. My boys and I have got Darya out of the AO and are currently holding our position."

"Understood Sergeant. Roach and I will stay with the girls until Barkhorn is fully healed."

Before Foley could reply, he can hear the drone of a heavy sounding engine approach and turns in its direction. By reflex he raises his rifle towards the approaching vehicle, a familiar looking six by six truck. But he soon remembers that he's in another reality. In this world it's not people who are the enemy. He lowers his rifle and try's to relax his nerves, silently cursing himself.

_"Damn Foley... people aren't the problem here: its god damned laser shooting aliens."_

"You still their Sergeant Foley?"

"Yeah, we're still here. Just got some company rolling up. Radio back once the kid is all healed, out."

"Roger that. Out."

After Foley is finished on his headset radio, he notices several people starting to dismount from the back of the truck. He recognized Ursula Heartmann stepping out from the back. Also with her are a few scientists, mechanics and lab-techs getting out of the truck and unloading some sort of apparatus from the trucks flatbed. Ursula notices Foley and the squad and she waves in greeting. Foley greets her in response.

"Officer Heartann. I'm surprised to see you guys down here."

"The feeling is mutual, Sergeant. My colleges and I have much to do and little time to do it. We need to begin analysis of the sector that contained the magic circle as well as the surrounding area."

Foley turns back to Dunn and Darya and gestures over to them. "We have a witch over here who was wounded in action, so we'll need to provide her with CASS-EVAC. Poor kid lost her leg."

Ursula looks over to them and notices the extent of Darya's wounds. She nods grimly. "I see. We will unload our truck and allow you all use of it to take her to medical aid." She turns to her colleges and gives them an order in a language that to Foley sounded vaguely German, to which they quickly comply, unloading the contents from the back of the truck.

Foley motions Dunn forward. "Dunn. Once they are finished, make sure to get Darya into that truck."

"Roger that Sarge."

With Dunn carrying Darya to the truck, Foley turns back to Ursula. "You said that you were going to do some sort of analysis?"

"That's correct."

"And how exactly are you folks going to do that?"

Ursula gestures in the direction of a strange looking device being handled by one of her peers. To Foley and his men it looks akin to a sort of television antenna attached to a large boxlike mechanism with knobs, dials and a display of some sort.

"That device that you see right there, will be our means of gathering data on the amount of Magical energy within and around the sector. It may be a bit of a walk from here to get to "Ground Zero", but in light of the situation we will have to manage it without transport. Despite our time schedule, priority must be given to the wounded." She smiles to Foley and taps the side of her nose knowingly. "I too was once a frontline witch after all."

"That's very good of you."

"Not at all, we all must do what we can for our comrades in arms." She looks back at her colleges a moment, noticing that they have just finished removing their lab equipment from the truck. "Well, that's the last of it. The truck is all yours Sergeant Foley."

Foley nods, motioning to Ramirez to join Dunn and Darya by the truck. "Ramirez, get in the truck with Darya and Dunn!"

"Right away Sarge."

She salutes the Sergeant as the private passes them, respect being shown in her intent. "God Speed Sergeant."

Foley returns the salute. "Ranger's lead the way mamm." With that Foley gets into the passenger side seat with Ramirez in the driver's seat. Closing the passenger side door, he looks over to Ramirez. "Hey, Private, let's get this crate rolling. We have a witch that's in need of some medical aid."

"Hooah."

After his brief response, the young Ranger shifts the truck into drive and applies the gas. The truck jerks forward, and the Rangers are now on the move. However, as they disembark Foley notices Jenna moving alongside their vehicle, the young girl matching the same speed as their transportation, noticing that the feet of her striker are glowing and propelling her along the ground in some sort of sliding motion. Foley tries yelling over the sound of the trucks loud diesel engine to talk with her.

"Hey Kid! You don't have to worry; your friend is in good hands. We'll take it from here."

"With respect Sergeant, I'm going to be staying with you and your men until Darya gets the care she needs."

"Fair enough, but how about hopping in then. You don't have to be keeping pace with us on foot."

Jenna shakes her head. "If you're asking whiter I need a lift, I don't need one. I'm a Witch. I have my Strikers. Besides, I'll just be taking up space that Darya needs."

Foley has a moment of pause. This girl, Jenna, really put the well being of her comrades above herself. He held a certain amount of admiration for this girl and how willing she was to endure fatigue and discomfort for the sake of her injured friend. But as he thought of it a little more, it wasn't much of a surprise really. It was just something a solider dose. If a trooper was bleeding and wounded bad, and there was only room left in your ride for either you or your buddy, you'd let your buddy take that spot. You wouldn't even need to be asked. You just did it. No ifs, ands or buts. That's just how it was. That's how it should be. How it's supposed to be.

Before Foley could think of anything else, Ghost is heard on Foley's comm., and judging from his tone the British man almost sounded relived.

"Foley, its Ghost. Miyafuji has finished healing up Barkhorn and we're about ready to move out. Miyafuji and Bishop are going to be rondevuing with their unit."

A thought suddenly comes to Foley: Barkhorn was seriously wounded and Miyafuji is a witch that is gifted in healing magic to and used that nifty little... gift... to heal the older witch back to health. And Foley's squad was currently carrying a wounded girl who needed medical treatment.

"Tell you what Lieutenant, tell those two girls to delay that rondevu. We have a witch that needs some healing magic on her immediately." Secretly, he couldn't believe he just said something like that. Magic as a viable skill and resource? Sounded like something out of a fantasy movie or Online MMO. "Once we get there, we can even give you and Roach a lift."

Thiers a brief pause before Foley hears Ghost chuckle quietly over the radio. "Sounds like a plan Sergeant. I'll relay it to the young lasses."

"Roger that. Just give us your location so we can meet up, Hooah?"

"Alright Sergeant, just don't get lost or anything. We're at grid Echo 203."

"Understood Ghost, we're on our way." Foley takes out a map that he recived from Jenna while wandering the battle-torn town and studies it a moment. Shortly he turns to Ramirez and points to the left of the upcoming intersection. "Ramirez, take this a left turn here."

"Righto on that, hang on to your helmets!" Ramirez turns the wheel sharply, steering in the direction that the Sergeant wanted them to go. The truck is a little sluggish in response; the wheels of the truck find their way onto the sidewalk and into a lamppost that is easily knocked over. The sound of Dunn cursing and Darya bleating in the back can be heard from the cab.

"Fucksake Private! Keep this thing on the god damned road!" Foley barked.

Ramirez seemed nervous, his hands moving quickly across the steering wheel. "Crap! Sorry Sarge. The only thing I've ever driven was my Ford Mustang back home. I'm not used to driving this oversized, six wheeled bastard."

"...Private, tell me that you're joking."

"I'd be lying, but would it make you feel any better if I did?" Ramirez try's to manipulate the trucks gearshift, attempting to shift gears, but the sound of the clutch grinding harshly doesn't bode well for the Sergeant. The young Ranger curses. "Aw fuck, and I never learned how to drive stick! My stang back home is an automatic."

Dunns voice chirps up from the back of the truck. "Sarge, what the fuck is going on up there? I damn near fell on top of our patient!"

Foley sighs heavily. "You're better off not knowing Corporal." He casts a sympathetic glance at the Private as the younger man struggles to keep the truck in the center of the road. "Ramirez, after this, you're going to learn how to drive a stick-shift."

"Fucken Manuals man! How can people drive shit like this?"

Foley's reply is complete deadpan. "Well private, they have these things called "DMV's". Bout time you shook hands with one."

Ramirez groans in frustration. "We'll if it's any fucking consolation I'm shaking hands with this god damned stick!"

Jenna watched the truck's action this whole time and pulls alongside the truck again. "What's happening here?"

Foley shifts his gaze to Jenna. "The privates still getting a feel for the truck. It should take him a minute to get comfortable handling it."

"We'll tell that idiot to be more careful! He has wounded on board in the back, and if he causes her any further injury or worse I'll make it my mission in life to make _his_ miserable."

"You heard the lady Private; better make sure you keep control of this vehicle. And try not to burn out the clutch either."

Ramirez gulps audibly. He hated to think about what happens when witches get mad, but he wasn't about ready to find out. "Where the fuck is the clutch on this thing? !"

Foley couldn't help but rest his hand against his face and shake his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe that this young man now driving the truck, a young trooper of promise when he was first assigned to Firebase Phoenix on the same day that Joseph Allen was selected for the OP to replace him, who had fought all across the Eastern Seaboard though countless hairy situations, close calls and desperate skirmishes and hold his own out of good fortune and had a knack with martial skill and soldiering... didn't know how to drive stick.

_Heh... talk about days that kick you in the ass. _Foley mused to himself.

* * *

><p><strong>Looks like events are in motion in the MW Universe as well...<br>**

**I'm surprised with the amount of people who have read and reviewed up to this point. I also like to thank those who have pointed out a few spelling and grammar related errors and I apologize for that. You can blame that on my staying up till 3:45 in the morning most of the time to writefor you guys, so if such errors happen in future chapters, it's probably because I'm burning the wax at both ends, but I will be taking measures to minimize if not completely alleviate that issue.**

**I'm as excited as all you readers out their. With the sector secure and the Neuroi held off, what will be in store for our protagonists now? We'll find out in the next Chapter.**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

It didn't take long after picking up Ghost and Roach that the Rangers managed to get Darya to Yoshika for healing. However, they found that when they produced the wounded Orussian witch to the younger girl from Fuso that she looked quite shaken at the extent of the injured girls wound. Miyafuji may have healed injuries before, but she never before had to treat an amputated limb. The five men found that Yoshika seemed distracted and troubled as she attempted to heal Darya's wound, despite both their encouragement and that of Lynne and Captain Barkhorn. She tried her best, but it wasn't her better patch up jobs. After her sub-par attempt, it was decided that Darya would get completed treatment back at the base. And that only made the younger girl feel worse.

Once they got back to base, the squad of men and witches quickly rushed her to the medical wing. That was about two and a half hours ago.

Yoshika was sitting on a couch just beside the entrance with Lynnette sitting next to her. Ghost and Roach stood up against the wall next to the couch with Jenna pacing back and forth. Barkhorn had left momentarily with Charlotte and Mio, possibly for a debriefing but Ghost and Roach weren't completely sure. With so much going on they weren't really given an opportunity of being given explanation. The Rangers we're off in a gaggle on the other side of the hall, waiting, like the others. Everyone was on edge, and Jenna was feeling the worst of it.

"Damn it. It's taking too long in their already!"

Roach's gaze follows Jenna as she makes her fifty eighth pass in front of him. "You might want to calm down a little bit. You're going to wear a hole into the floor."

"I can't calm down! My Squad mate is hurt! How is this any time to stay calm? !"

"Worrying about it isn't going to help either." Ghost puts in. "Just have a little faith." The older Task Force Operator found it ironic something like that was said by him of all people.

Jenna simply scoffs and continues pacing. The levels of stress she was feeling was going through the roof.

Yoshika's guilt in having failed in healing Darya properly only grew. She hung her head and cast her eye's to the floor. Her hands were trembling. She was supposed to use her powers to help protect everyone, to heal those who were hurt. And yet, she couldn't even do that for this one girl.

"I'm sorry..."

Jenna's pacing finally ceases and everyone's eyes are now on the Fuso girl. Yoshika's voice carried shy guilt as she spoke. "This is my fault. If I was able to use my healing magic properly we wouldn't be having this problem right now... it's just..." Yoshika's words caught in her throat as she fought back tears. Shakily she tried to finish. "I'm just...I'm not used to treating a wound like that."

Jenna sighed and rubbed her forehead, trying to compose a response. "Well...I'm sure you did what you could."

Lynette Nodded. "Please don't be too hard on yourself Yoshika."

Foley however speaks, his voice is blunt. "How long have you been serving for kid?"

Yoshika turns to the Sergeant of Hunter-21. "A little over a year and a half."

"And how many battles have you seen so far?"

"A couple I guess."

Foley crosses his arms and frowns. "War isn't a pretty business kid. If you aren't able to handle seeing and treating wounds like that for this long, then how the hell are you going to expect to be of any help to someone?"

The Sergeants words are like a strike across the face to the young girl, her body flinching involuntarily. She slumps in her seat, her eye's cast back to the floor and falling silent. The already heavy atmosphere only becomes more so.

Dunn glances to Foley. "Bit harsh don't ya think Sarge?"

"It's the truth Corporal. She has to hear it, even if it hurts."

"She's still just a kid Sarge."

Foley is silent, but the look on his face speaks volumes to what his thoughts were. Foley knew that a solider had to get used to the sights and sounds of battle and Medics had to be used to the wounds of others so that they may not be distracted while treating them. Unless they did, then more lives would be added to those dead.

Ghost looked over to Roach and tilted his head up to the ceiling, apparently mulling over his own thoughts. "Oi, Roach"

"Yes sir?"

"I noticed something out on the field with those girls."

"Yeah, like what?"

Ghost paused for a moment before gesturing over at the three witches currently in their company. "Witches have some form of protection against enemy attacks when they were fighting those alien bastards. Some sort of shields or something like that."

Roach cocked his head curiously. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Ghost sighed, his hand smacking his head in exasperation. "Don't tell me you didn't notice it Sergeant." His head turns over to his subordinate and he gestures with his hand. "The glowing ruins that form when they take incoming fire. The bright glowing things similar to the one that sucked us here, but smaller."

Roach shrugs. "I wouldn't know; I was too busy trying to help you find Captain Barkhorn."

Ghost stairs over his glasses at Roach and gives the younger Task Force Operator a dirty look. "Roach, I know you're a moppet, but are you really...you didn't notice that at all?"

"Um...no?"

An annoyed but unsurprised look appears in Ghost's eyes. Roach was raw, skilled and loyal to a fault, but even he had some of his drawbacks. Like attention to details. "You keep missing details Roach. Just like when we were running that op on the Sub. You did a shit job hiding the bodies; enemy tangos that were patrolling found them instantly."

Roach rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me, are you and the rest of the Task Force ever going to let me live that one down."

"If you start paying some attention to the little things, then maybe..."

"Didn't I already apologize for that screw up?"

"You're just lucky we had AGM's for that one. Otherwise clean up would have gone completely different... I mean something as spectacular as a glowing circle misses your notice? That's a problem Roach."

Before Roach could retort, Gertrude appears from around a corner and motions to Ghost and Roach. Both men turn to each other briefly before approaching her. Gertrude then speaks to the two men of the Task Force in a low whisper.

"How are things going? Will she be alright?"

Ghost shrugs. "Don't know yet, we're still waiting."

"Is every one holding up okay?"

Roach shakes his head. "It's pretty rough, everyone's on edge."

Ghost drops his voice to an even softer whisper, making sure that nobody else can hear him speaking about his upcoming subject. "Is our DSM still secure?"

Gertrude nods affirmative and quietly replies. "It's still in its place, untouched. And as you asked, no one knows of it."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Truthfully I don't like not telling Minna what's going on...but I guess it's not the first time I've kept something hidden from her."

Ghost cocks his eyebrow in curiosity. "Oh really, is that right?"

Gertrude frowns at Ghost's question. "Before you start asking, it's none of your business."

"Alright, fair enough... I'll let it drop"

The door to the medical room suddenly opens, grabbing everyone's attention. The Doctor and a Nurse step out of the door to the medical ward with clip-boards in hand. The doctor removes the glasses resting on his face while everyone awaits the news anxiously.

"Well folks, the good news is she'll make it."

Jenna takes a sudden step forward. "Really Doc? ! She's gonna be okay? !"

"Yes Sergeant Major. Junior Sergeant Darya will need a lot of rest but she will survive her wounds."

Jenna sighed heavily, relived that her comrade will pull through. "Good."

Yoshika turns to the Doctor with a look of worry. "Will there be any infection or complications?"

The doctor shakes his head negative. "So far we haven't run into anything like that during our procedure. We have noticed signs of attempted Healing Magic treatment administered to her that helped sterilize the wound and somewhat aided in her legs healing..." his voice suddenly trails off uncomfortably.

Everyone was smiling at first until the doctor and nurse's faces become sombre. The Nurse continues where the doctor left off. "Unfortunately there has been some nerve damage, the healing spell wasn't in use long enough to fully repair the nerve damage and she will experience phantom pain in all likely hood."

The doctor finishes, shaking his head solemnly. "And I'm afraid this type of injury will end her military career... or any service on the front lines at least."

There is silence, Jenna's face turning into an expression that was unreadable. Yoshika had a saddened expression printed on her, with Lynne trying to console her quietly. Barkhorn and the five men were quiet for a long time. Young Darya may have survived her trial of fire, but it would be her last battle as a witch. Or rather, her last battle period. She can't fight anymore, and her injuries would be both painful and persistent.

Ghost finally nods. "At least she's got her life, that's the important thing. That's one thing those Neuroi-things didn't take. The best thing you can hope for is to keep living." He turns around on the balls of his feet and starts to leave, motioning Roach to follow. "Come on Roach, we're Oscar Mike."

"Roger that sir."

Gertrude watches as Ghost and Roach start walking down the hall away from the group. She looks back to the others silently for a moment before turning around to follow the two men of the Task Force. Everyone save for Jenna watches as the three of them take their leave.

Jenna swallows hard. "Doc... can I see her?"

The doctor turns abruptly to Jenna, but his expression softens a little, seeing the girls trembling form. "Well it may be a bit early for visitors... but I think I'll allow it."

Without another word, he steps aside and allows Jenna through the doors, the young Sergeant Major moving past him and into the room to see her squad mate. Ramirez and Dunn lean into the door frame and watch as Jenna walks down the post Op ward to Darya's bed, where the girl promptly embraces her wounded friend. Though too far away to make out any speech, they can see plainly how much she cares for Darya, seeing Jenna's body shuddering uncontrollably, the older girl most likely crying for her younger sister in arms.

Yoshika turns to Lynne with an unsure, questioning look. "S-should I go in there too? Maybe say something too-"

Foley interrupts her as she speaks. "No. Just leave them alone for now. We can come back later."

The Doctor nods. Both he and the Nurse turn back into the post-op, the doors closing behind them and leaving Yoshika, Lynette, Foley, Dunn and Ramirez by themselves. After a moment, Ramirez looks to Foley with a questioning look.

"So Sarge, what now."

"Well, until Erica's sister figures out a way for us to get home, we integrate with the personnel here and make do until then. For starters, we'll get some training in, hit the showers after that, and then we will dig up a little history of this world and get some Intel on those Neuroi."

"Well I'm looking forward to that shower. I probably smell like BO plenty."

Lynette and Yoshika both stand, Lynette gestures down the hall to a corridor, both of them holding hands as they do. "I guess we can both take you to our training course Sergeant Foley."

"That would be appreciated Sergeant. Oh...and you can just call me "Sean."

"Really, you don't mind at all if I did?"

Foley shrugs as he responds. "Well technically I'm David Foley, but my friends call me "Sean."

"Oh. It's kind of like how we call Charlotte "Shirley" Yoshika muses.

"Yeah... I guess so."

As both the girls are about to lead the three men, Ramirez makes an absent minded comment born from fatigue. "I guess the both of you'd know more than one way to have "fun" around here."

Both girls stop and turn to the Private of Hunter- 21 in confusion. "Huh?"

Ramirez suddenly realizes what he had just said and freezes; the look on his face similar to that of a dear getting caught in the headlights of an approaching car. "Uh..." He still remembers that kiss that he saw the two girls sharing the night before, and with his level of fatigue, he forgot to be tighter lipped about it.

Dunn turns to Ramirez with a confused look on his face. "Ramirez, what are you talking about?"

While Ramirez knew of the "Don't Ask Don't Tell" policy had been repealed back in the year of 2011 back home, but he wasn't sure what things were like in this world. Seeing such open levels of affection between Yoshika and Lynne made him curious what the rules and guidelines were for such relationships in this world or if such a thing was the norm or if they would be discharged for such affections. But of course he wasn't going to let it drop that he saw them both locking lips in the dark, which would be akin to shooting his foot with his own M9. So after a moment of thinking about what to say next, he just asks the two girls bluntly.

"So are you both a couple or what?"

Yoshika and Lynette are surprised a bit by such a forward question. Dunn glares at Ramirez, clearly irked at the Privates question. He seems about ready to throttle Ramirez for opening his mouth.

"Dude, you're not supposed to ask questions like that! Are you a dumb ass or something?"

"Well...it's kind of obvious. Not that I care really, I've got nothing negative to say about it. Heck my sister has a friend who's a Lesbian, so it doesn't really matter."

Yoshika quickly becomes flustered. "Oh, it's...it's just...um...I mean...Lynne and me...we..."

Lynnette's face turns red as a beat. "Oh dear, are we both really that transparent! ?"

Ramirez suddenly has a horrified look on his face. Is what he just said going to get them both in trouble? "Oh crap, you're not going to get court marshalled for that are you?"

The expression of both girls change from flustered to confused. Lynne shakes her head. "N-no, I don't think so, at least as far as I know."

The three rangers blink. Dunn cocks his head to one side. "Really?"

"The both of us are just...well we haven't told anyone anything about it really." Lynnette suddenly looks to the ceiling thoughtfully. "Of course I guess we aren't anything compared to Sanya and Eila. With those two, you can see it as plain as day."

Dunn shakes his head. "And I thought it was just me."

Lynnette laughs. "Oh no, it's defiantly them. In fact, Eila hates it when anyone gets close to Sanya, man or women."

Dunn's curiosity soon grows and it soon gets the better of him as well, though he's reluctant in asking. "So...how long...um..."

Yoshika fidgets nervously. "L-last night, but we've been friends a few days after I joined the Strike Witches."

"Oh... I guess I can see that."

Ramirez turns to Dunn awkwardly. "Does anyone else feel like this is a little awkward?"

Foley turns to the Private and crosses his arms. "Then why did you bring it up in the first place Private?"

"I don't know anymore."

"Then how about we pretend we didn't have this conversation."

Ramirez doesn't respond. He keeps silent, to which Dunn pats the Privates back firmly. "Now there's the Ramirez I know, silent as a fucking mouse."

Yoshika suddenly claps her hands together quite suddenly as she remembers something from a few months back. "Oh, I remember that boy that one time. He was really nice and gave me an envelope with a letter and everything."

Lynette laughs, remembering. "Oh yeah, he was really nervous trying to give you that letter."

"I really liked the gesture; it was really sweet of him to go through all that trouble. He looked kind of cute too."

Dunn blinks in surprise. "Wait...you got a love letter... from a dude?"

Yoshika nods. "Yeah, I kind of liked it. At one point as he was giving me the letter, the wind caught it and the three of us had to chase after it around the base."

Now the three men are becoming even more curious. Good stories often helped the three Rangers pass the time, and this particular tale was getting too interesting. So Dunn asks a big question now on their minds. "So what happened?"

Both girls sighed as Lynnette responds sympathetically. "Wing Commander Minna confiscated the letter as contraband before the he could give it to Yoshika. She said that unnecessary contact between male personnel and witches on base is forbidden."

Foley is both surprised and confused by that little bit of information. "Why would she do that I wonder."

"I don't know, we both asked that question ourselves, but it was the Commander's orders."

Dunn scoffs. "Man, she sure sounds like one hell of a kill-joy. I know if I were so inclined, I wouldn't be able to make any passes at any girls in _this_ base."

Ramirez turns to Dunn and questions him dryly. "ARE you so inclined?"

"Just saying... besides at least I can compared to you."

"Whatever Dunn, any girls you pick up are probably the ones that have Gonorrhea."

Foley clears his throat and gestures at the two witches, reminding his subordinates who they are currently in the presence of. Both men look at each other in awkward silence.

Yoshika looks at Dunn and Ramirez a questioning look. "Gonorrhea?"

Foley waves off her question. "Never mind those two Knuckleheads Yoshika, as I recall, the two of them need to get some training in." A sudden grin appears on his face as he looks at his two subordinates. "And a HELL of a lot of training."

Both men roll their eyes. "Aw Fuck."

* * *

><p>After wandering the halls for a good ten minutes, Ghost, Roach and Gertrude walk into the war room. Roach peaks into the hall momentarily, and then closes the door behind him after Gertrude and Ghost had entered. Both men move to the DSM. Roach takes off his helmet and balaclava and smiles, getting back on the computer terminal from earlier.<p>

"Yup, it's still here. And looks like this computer is still on as well."

Ghost nods. "Well, back to work then Roach. We've got to get on this and fast."

"Roger." Roach starts typing at a quickened pace. Each keystroke being heard in a rhythmic flourish.

As Roach works his magic on the computer, Ghost goes over to a nearby table and takes a seat in one of the chairs resting next to it. Un-slinging his ACR from his back he rests it up against the leg of the table. Gertrude approaches and takes a seat across from him.

"So tell me Lieutenant Ghost, how long will it take for you both to find what you're looking for?"

"Depends really on how long it will take Roach to crack the password on the DSM. Hopefully no more than a day, but then I guess you can't rush some things in life, even if you want to."

Gertrude nodded, understanding the Lieutenant's insight. "Those words are true. I was hoping that I'd get to hear more from you like earlier, but if I'm rushing you before your ready to tell me then I'll understand."

"Huh, that's very mature of you..." Ghost contemplates for a moment, finally shrugging nonchalantly once arriving at a decision. "Well so far putting my trust in someone besides just Roach hasn't bitten me in the ass yet, so sure I can continue where we left off." He strokes his chin thoughtfully, his head turning to the ceiling as he tries to collect his thoughts. "Let's see, now where was I the last time I was trying to play the role of storyteller?"

"The Massacre..." Gertrude's voice sounded a little sombre at mentioning the word, it's a word she didn't like hearing or using, at least when referencing a human being.

Ghost nodded slowly. "Right...left off on a low note there, so it's best to just move on from that point." Ghost crosses his arms and continues. "So right after things went cussing sideways, the 141 had to track down whoever sold Makarov the weapons he needed to perform that evil little act of his. His team used American weapons, most likely got them from a black market arms dealer or through similar channels, the only problem is we needed to track down exactly who he dealt with."

Gertrude clearly looks confused. "Why is that necessary, it sounds like a lot of trouble to go through. Why not just confront this Makarov, tell the other nations the truth?"

Ghost replies bluntly. "Because we had no proof: Not only did he use American weapons for the attack on the airport, but he and his team spoke in English during the OP, to make it look like it was an American Operators committing the act. Any credibility Allen had and any Intel regarding the truth died with him, so we needed to get the truth from another source. Otherwise no one would believe it was Makarov and his boys conducting the Op. What we needed to do was follow one of the shell casings from the scene of the massacre and follow the trail."

"Oh...I see...that man sounds like a sneaky and clever opponent."

Ghost scoffs, a slight hint of frustration in his voice. "That's not all that bastard is." Ghost voice returns to a more neutral sounding tone as he continues. "At any rate that trail takes us to Rio de Janeiro in Brazil and an Arm's dealer: Alejandro Rojas; goes by Alex the Red. I never really got many details, but if I recall, Captain McTavish had some history with him. Knew him at least, but probably more their then the Captain is willing to go into."

Ghost leans forward and begins going into great depth about the Arms dealer. "Now, Rojas began his career as a low level munitions clerk for the KGB, Soviet Intelligence, but quickly worked his way up the career ladder. He oversaw overseas connections with the Far East and South American trades, acting as a buffer between government and mercenaries trading in all levels of weaponry from over a dozen countries, even a good large number of creatively obtained American-made weapons. Rojas then went freelance in 1997, where he went off the grid for many years, and a lot of people thought he was involved with many terrorist organizations. But it turns out Rojas was also a contact and armorer for Makarov, so we wanted to get our hands on him to get the word straight from the proverbial horse's mouth. But to do that, we need to find out just where the rat was hiding, so we had to find his assistant to find him. A man named Faust."

"So you were sent on a mission to find both men, using one to find the other."

Ghost smiled. "Smart lass... yes, we did just that."

Roach quite suddenly pipes up as he is typing, his current attempts at getting through the password on the DSM having as of yet no success. He remembers that Op almost vividly. "And it didn't kick off with a particularly good start either. We shadowed a white van belonging to two members of the local militia trying to find this guy, and once they find him all hell breaks loose. When they walk up to him ready to muscle the guy, he whips out a Desert Eagle like Tom Fucking Cruise and slots em both like a boss, then he notices the car that I'm sitting in the front passenger side of and unloads on us. He kills Driver and I nearly lose my head..." Roach shakes his head and sighs heavily, almost shuddering at the graphic memory that's resurfacing. "My face was covered in Drivers brains. Faust starts running and then we have to go and chase after that twat."

Ghost turns to Roach, sounding a little put off. "Oi mate: who's telling the story here, eh?"

"Hey, I was also a part of that mission, I think I'm entitled to share a little from my perspective ya know."

"Just as long as it doesn't interfere with your job Roach, I want that DSM cracked ASAP."

"No worries, I can multi-task."

Gertrude interrupts the men's exchange. "So what happened at that point?"

Roach shrugs. "Meh, we caught him pretty quick and Ghost worked his magic on him. I popped a round into his leg and incapacitated him, and after that, Ghost and McTavish had em to themselves while Meat, Royce and I went into the Favela and hopefully try and pick up the trial on Rojas."

"What do you mean by that "work your magic" bit exactly?"

Both men are silent for but a brief moment before Ghost makes a cryptic reply. "Well, the interrogation we had was defiantly a _shock_ for him, to say the least."

Gertrude is confused, but it doesn't last for long once she remembers some of Ghost's skill sets from what he shared with her earlier. "You tortured him? !"

Ghost appears unapologetic, his voice sounding as though he was reminiscing. "That day I got to show off some of my best work. Faust's treatment was nothing compared to the treat we gave to Rojas after we had chased him all over the favela. Amazing the information you can get with a car battery and some jumper cables."

The look that Gertrude gave the Lieutenant was one of shock and disgust. Sure she beat the crap out of Maloney's assistant, but she never tortured anybody inhumanly. Before she could get a chance to chastise Ghost however, he wagged his finger calmly. "Now I know what you're going to say love: "That's barbaric! Such acts are uncalled for, what's wrong with you?" Ghost taps the table with his figure as he explains, emphasizing his words with this simple gesture. "Sure my outlook is pretty fucked, I know it and everyone and their mother knows it, but the world Roach and I live in is full of scum bags, greedy vermin and power hungry bastards that have no conscience or empathy. Plus they can be pretty thick headed if not stupid. Sometimes to deal with such men, you need to use force. In order to make the world better and a little safer, men like us sometimes need to do things that sometimes we don't like doing. Sometimes you must pay evil unto evil." Of course Ghost meant it more as a generalization of how most people would feel; what he felt doing such things was a whole different thing entirely. "I knew this going in, so I suggested it to the team, and I got no objections as to the methods to obtain the information that we needed. I did what was needed."

As Gertrude listened, she found that when Ghost spoke, his tone of voice wasn't normal. He sounded like he was recalling just another memory, not recalling a painful, guilty past. And when he mentioned "paying evil unto evil" it was stated as a cold hard fact. He said his outlook was messed up and even he knew it. She started to wonder just why Ghost had this outlook. She thought about this for a while, but she decided to log it away for another time, not wanting to pry with a man with as dark a perspective as his.

_One thing at a time_, _I guess._ She murmured. She drew a heavy breath. "Okay, so you got the Intel you needed, even if the means were dubious."

Ghost nodded. "Yes. Once we got what we needed we headed for our drop zone, dodging militia along the way. The initial DZ was too hot for Nikolai to land and pick us up by helicopter, so we need to run to our secondary LZ and even had to run across rooftops to get there." Ghost turns and gestures towards Roach as he continues. "On the last jump to the LZ on the roof tops Roach came up a bit short. He fell to the streets below, so he had to run like hell with militia on his ass."

Roach frowns, remembering the fall he took off the roof. "I thought I would be able to make that jump. Maybe I should have shed some of my gear or something. I felt like an idiot after that and I was tired as fuck to boot."

Ghost continues. "Now, after Rojas broke all he gave us was that the only man that Makarov hated more than Americans was locked up in a gulag in Siberia. After our little Takedown in Brazil, our next objective involved taking oil rigs that Makarov's men were using as Surface-to-air missile sites with the rig crews being held hostage, and we needed those oil rigs in order for us to gain a foot hold to assault the gulag, have our aircraft fly in and make a strike on the enemy. We managed to get that done and dusted and went ahead to extract "Prisoner- 627" the man we were looking for."

Ghost laughs remembering the mission in question. "I had a hell of a job running security; the gulag hardware was ancient stuff. And on top of that, the man we were looking for turns out to be Captain Price, McTavish's old CO. Turns out after he was captured after one of our past OP's, "Operation Kingfish" he was shipped off to that old castle to rot. The old man was a stubborn one though; I heard Roach got decked by old man Price after breaching into the room he was being held inside of."

Roach frowned in response, rolling his eyes while he continued to type. "Old codger has a mean right hook, could have broken my jaw. Course I was a little distracted by the fact he was chocking some poor sod with a length of chain."

Gertrude was in awe, she was amazed that this man that both Ghost and Roach spoke of had such strength of will and skill in martial combat to be capable of such outstanding praise and respect by these two members of the 141. "I'm amazed. I would be honoured to meet this man, Price."

Ghost's expression seems to turn grim, mopping his face and sighing audibly. "Captain McTavish respected the old man, he'd be willing to follow him to the ends of the Earth...but even a badass mother fucker like Price has his breaking limits, every man does, I should know. Price was in the gulag for a long time...his way of thinking... Tavish told me a lot about the old man back when I first joined the 141 and the time he was still with us. And for the time I knew him before Operation Kingfish I could see why Tavish respected the old man, but on our next Op he did something that even turned MY head right around. 14 miles South-South-East of Petropavlovsk, Price wanted us to secure a sub that was at port, sneaking in and then fighting our way through an entire base of men to get to it. But none of us counted on Price using the Sub to fire a missile at the United States."

Gertrude's jaw literally drops at this stunning revelation. "W-w-what? ! He did what!"

"Yeah, our reactions were pretty much the same as that. I'm pretty sure MY eyes were bugging out when Price let that ICBM fly.""

"Why would he do something like that, firing a missile at an allied nation?"

Ghost shrugs. "He wanted the war to end quickly, so he figured that using the missile could turn the tide in our favour I suppose. I'm not sure if he thought of any other alternatives, but if he weren't in a dark place for so long, he may have done something different...I think..." Ghost exhales steadily. "But damn if that wasn't the second biggest wallop we ever had. I guess something must have...broken... inside the old man...being locked up in a shithole like that."

Gertrude frowns. "I'm having a hard enough time trying to understand your world when you tell me things such as this."

Ghost shrugs again, and pulls out a log book from his coat pocket, "You're not the only one kid. After that Roach and I hit the Cuscus Mountains and both the Captains take an Afghan Boneyard, both of our teams working to try and cut off Makarov's avenues of escape. But of course, everything goes to shit from the get-go, we lose several good men and the remaining members of the Task Force get back stabbed by Sheppard. And that's about round the time where Roach and I find ourselves here instead of dead in a ditch in the middle of fucking nowhere."

Ghost turns over a page in his log-book, reads it for a moment and shows her the page it's turned to. He silently gestures her to take and read it, which she does. Gertrude can see that Ghost had written something in regards to the mission prior to this last one, mostly personal commentary and some of his thoughts at that point in time after the mission. Most of the notes noted some concern over Price's actions prior to the OP and after firing the missile. Upon turning the page, she finds some sketches of what appeared to be a house, written in pen. The picture of the house had some notes scrawled that had Ghost speculating perimeter defences and possible engagement strategies, but noticed that half of it was scribbled out in red pen, with the following written in bold, capital letters: "MISSION IS UTTER CLUSTER FUCK, AMBUSHED LIKE ROOKIES. LOST SCARCROW, OZONE, MAMBA, OZ, GLADIUS AND REAPER. SHEPPARD FUCKING TURNS ON US: NEVER SAW IT COMMING GOD DAMN IT!" The last bit written about Sheppard is underlined and circled. Before Gertrude can turn yet another page, Ghost takes the book back and pockets it abruptly.

Ghost shook his head before continuing. "Our team is still back their fighting this thing, anything that may be of help to them might make all of this right..." He pauses a moment, then continues again. "If we can get whatever on that DSM and get home then we can do what we do best. The sooner, the better in my book...plus I want to have my hands around two of the lousiest sods on the face of the planet in my humble opinion." Ghost made a gun gesture with his hand and held it in front of his face, almost menacingly, an ominous foreshadowing of what he plans to do. "You can only do one thing with men like this: One being a dishonourable manipulator and the other a degenerate monster." Ghost pointed his hand in Gertrude's general direction, still in its menacing shape. "One thing and one thing only..." his thumb acts as the trigger of a gun, twitching as if the hammer of a pistol had fallen upon a bullet in the chamber.

Gertrude is silent, her eyes wide in astonishment at Ghost's dark determination. She could see that this man who sat before her was a man that one shouldn't make enemies with. She could detect his sense of duty pushing him on, but he also had such deep seated vengeance that was terrifying. This masked, former SAS man with a drive she had not yet seen before. She could feel deep in her very being that Ghost meant what he said about what he was going to do. And yet...she admired him?

Ghost laughs a little and seems to relax some, his voice becoming apologetic. "Sorry if I scared you at all love. This whole thing has me wound up tighter then a spring."

Gertrude sheepishly waves it off. "Not at all, there's no need to apologize Ghost. I can understand your frustration, it's understandable."

Things grow silent for a while save for Roach typing on the keyboard of the computer terminal. Simon found himself studying the young Karlslander sitting across from him. Sure she was tougher then a bear on steroids and about fifty times as strong; but Gertrude was a looker, he could agree on that. Gertrude's eyes meet Simon's, and she seems to take a questioning look with the Task Force Lieutenant.

"Are you alright Lieutenant?"

Ghost shakes his head. "I'm quite alright luv." Ghost tried to shift his gaze to seem uninterested, and though it seemed to work, Ghost was getting confused with himself. _Okay, what the heck's going through my noggin? _He glances back up to Gertrude, fixated on her hazel eyes. _Damn, she has beautiful eyes. And she can kick major ass, that's a bonus in my book...fuck sake just what's the matter with me?_

Ghost was a man who was the epitome of discipline, skill and cold hard efficacy. He was as tough as a rock and ice cold as a glacier; a belt-fed, hardcore mother-fucker and he knew it. The only problem was he didn't have much in the way of empathy for those around him, and even during the times where he should have been freaking out: Being buried alive in Mexico, framed for the deaths of close to a dozen people including his family, trying figure out how to kill a drug cartel crime lord and his goons, being pursued by an entire Brazilian town trying to kill him and his team, watching his friends mentor launching an ICBM on America and getting betrayed and almost killed by the man who was supposed to be the Task Force's commanding officer... why is it that despite all that, it was this girl; a witch from another world who fought laser shooting aliens and wore almost noting below the waist, fly using propeller boots and could probably in all likely hood lift a steel girder owing to the fact she carry two fully loaded MG42's with ease was what made his heart race a mile a minute?

* * *

><p>Crossing the North Atlantic was a lone Junkers Ju 523m ce, enroot to Romagna from Nue Karlsland. The Ju 52 was holding steady at about 45 knots at an altitude of 1,500 feet. From within the aircraft fuselage in a passenger seat was a man in his thirties, possibly forties, wearing a well dressed Karlslander uniform with Iron Cross and Oak leafs, also adorned with around nine ribbons indicating combat gallantry and tours of duty served, his cap resting in his lap and to his right was a suitcase. From his epulats, one could see he held the rank of Generalveterinär, a Karlslander General. Holstered at his hip was a Mauser C96, a long barrelled sidearm possessing a high-velocity cartridge that had boasted superior range and better penetration than most other standard pistols. About one seat over sat about five soldiers: Ranking from an Unterfeldwebel, a Unteroffizier and three Soldats; the equivalent of a Sergeant, a Corporal and three Privates. Each man carried an MP40 save for the Unterfeldwebel who had an StG44. The five men were mostly quiet and straight faced except for a Soldat at the end who seemed pretty green, looking both eager and nervous at the same time.

The man in full dress uniform cast a momentary glance at these five men that were serving as his Guard detail. Though it was unusual to have so many men accompany him to Romagna, he made a point that he'd require the extra muscle. One of the soldiers under him in this group was a new recruit, fresh out of basic. He'd prefer having Gefreiter AchimFaber in the roster, but he was wounded while on leave due to a car accident, so he was left with a wide-eyed boy to fill in for his fifth man. He found the situation taxing, but perhaps he could whip this rookie into something with this little trip?

The man's steel grey eyes traveled to the cabin of the aircraft, noting that the pilot and co-pilot we're talking idly about something, most likely some sort of pedestrian subject matter of little importance or relevance, though after a while they seemed to grow silent, as if sensing that man's piercing gaze was boring into them through their seats. It mattered not to him. He had better things to care about, the war against the Neuroi being one such thing. Humanity needed to gain an advantage against the alien invaders by any means necessary.

The old war horse reminisced of his time working with Trevor Maloney Britannian Air Chief Marshal, a man which he had shared a vision with. Both men had desired to make their nations military's strong, to have the edge against the monstrosities that trampled their lands. And to do that they needed power as their ace in the hole. When a fallen Neuroi's Core was discovered by Allied forces, the Britannian's having the large core kept in a top secret facility on Britannian soil where it was studied and researched, with the operation overseen by Maloney, it provided an opportunity. It was discovered that the creature's still living heart held some sort of energy, a great deal of it. Such energy could provide considerable military power.

Once he had gotten wind of this, the Generalveterinär came to Maloney with a deal, which the Air Chief Marshal took a quick liking to. The Kalrsland military was developing new combat technologies to counter the Neuroi threat, some revolutionary next generation technology that would be ahead of its time, made with new experimental materials and prototype tech. But the problem is that Neue Karlsland scientists and engineers were struggling to find suitable power sources for these new weapons, which demanded large outputs of energy to run. So he put forth a solution: Maloney provides a piece of the core, and he provides the experimental prototypes. Doing that would provide a tactical combat advantage against the enemy. And it would eliminate two things that the two men wanted to be rid of...

From the cockpit the Pilot is heard trying to address the Generalveterinär. "Sir, we have received a radio transmission that we will be receiving escort in about ten minutes."

The man turned to the cockpit. "From whom pilot?"

"Witches from the 78th Reserve Squadron "Tame Witches" sir, they are offering us air escort into Romagna."

The man frowned at this bit of news. "Haven't they any planes they can send to escorts us?"

"None they can spare sir, but they say they are willing to send us some witches-"

"Tell them escort isn't necessary." The Generalveterinär stated this bluntly to the pilot, turning his head away from the cockpit and looking straight at the JU's fuselage wall.

" Sir?"

"We don't require escort, give them our thanks regardless and stay your heading to our destination."

"But sir there may still be Neuroi-"

"Pilot..." The Generalveterinär's voice was as cold as ice as he addressed the aircrafts unfortunate operator. "I believe I gave you an order... and I expect my orders to be followed."

The pilot gulped audibly and nodded. Suddenly he wasn't worried about Neuroi any more... "J-jawohl, right away sir!"

After that, he returned now to mulling over his thoughts as the pilot nervously declined escort over the radio. The Generalveterinär's and Maloney had a report, shared similar goals. And like Maloney... he had a strong contempt for witches. In-fact, one could say he hated them. Like Maloney, he thought war was a man's domain. The idea of adolescent girls gallivanting in battle theatres and playing soldier... offended him. Giving thought for even a moment of militaries relying on spoiled, immature and naive girls made his blood boil. He will not rely on some brats to lead him to Romagna, and he will not hide behind their bloomers in the face of the enemy. And yet these girls would often show their lack of discipline and respect. Often times he had to make...examples... of such insubordination. And he encouraged similar thinking in his men. His soldiers were the best that his country could offer, the best trained, better equipped than any nation, and yet they were overshadowed by glory seeking witches.

Because of the witches of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing, he lost a good ally in Maloney once the promise and power of the Warlock program fell short of fruition, with Maloney facing severe punishment from his peers in Britannia. Fortunately another of Maloney's brainchildren was still kept by him, and he passed it along the chains of command in Fuso's military, and hopefully Fuso could help bring the conventional military more backbone and clout.

Anything to be rid of Air Chief Marshal Hugh Dowding's accursed Joint Fighter Wings and the power to turn the tide of war brought back to the hands of fighting military men, not in the hands of Volunteer witches. He hoped that perhaps these so-called, "visitors", from another reality would provide something to accomplish this. He intended to find it, and acquire it. First he must see what men these visitors were... and from their decide how to best deal with them...


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Once evening descended upon the base, everyone was starting to wind down, save for the three Rangers. Having finished another amazing dinner that Yoshika and Lynnette had prepared, Ramirez and Dunn were outside the barracks getting in some last minute training before lights out, with Foley overseeing and critiquing his subordinates on their performance.

Having been drilled, PT'ed and even getting sometime on the base firing range using by their point of view, "Vintage" firearms, both Ramirez and Dunn we're finishing their regimen with some good old fashioned hand to hand CQC. While soldiers often had to wield a vast array and arsenal of weapons ranging from things as simple as a bayonet or even a stick all the way up to things as complex as pistols, rifles, machineguns and a multiple number of explosive devices, there's one weapon that the Ranger's knew they had to also keep maintained in peak condition: The Human Weapon.

A combat operators Mind and Body, like the tools of war that served to extend it, had to be kept in immaculate form. Being military men, this would come as no surprise. Military personnel are often given even a basic level of training that focused on close quarter's engagement. There were basic, intermediate and advanced levels that any Army Solder, Navy Sailor or Air Force pilot would have. And in the Marines they had Close Quarters training that proved brutal in every aspect. But in the case of the Ranger's and other Special Forces in the Army, it was supplemented with "Specialized Training" in certain areas. One such example that the two Ranger's were currently demonstrating was SOCP.

A man named Greg Thompson was the developer of this particular Combative Program, having had Special Operations forces turn to him for advice and assistance. As operators returned from the field they would discuss with him tactical problems they encountered which over time tended to show a predictable pattern: that of a personal surprise attack upon an operator by an individual which takes place in a residence housing HVT's and possibly their family members. These attack characteristics, as they were identified, combined to form the Core Concepts of SOCP. It was built from the field up, not from the instructor down, which made it one of the few, more unique forms of combat training.

The Core Principles of SOCP involved the following: Fighting in kit with weaponry, weapon transition and retention while standing or on the ground, 360 degree ambush attacks into and over objects, fighting multiple assailants solo or as a team, compliant and non-compliant cuffing and vehicle extractions and Force continuum involving both lethal and less-than-lethal options as well as something called "Technique linkage". Two other programs that Rangers were often trained in included MACP and 3SD, though these latter programs taught different principles, MACP teaching mixed martial arts techniques and 3SD focusing on Fighting/Disengaging/Escaping assailants and promoting an operators ability on being task specific, assessing environment and threats, as well as using makeshift and improvised weapons.

In the case of SOCP, the main focus of the program was to help train a combat operator how to fluidly react to sudden ambushes in close quarters by an enemy combatant, gain distance from him and return the operator to his weapon and neutralizing the target with said weapon at short range; to make space and get to your tools. This particular Close Quarters training proved to be quite potent and was successful in what it accomplished. It was simple, direct, and ultimately, was incredibly effective.

During SOCP training exercises, operators trained with their weapons unloaded, so as to avoid accidently shooting your training partner. Dunn held his SCAR-H facing Ramirez, with the Private held his M4A1 facing Dunn, both men in a siege stance. Ramirez approaches Dunn and attempts to grab the Corporals shoulder, playing the role of assailant. Dunn immediately reacts, countering with an elbow strike to the Private's head followed by a push kick to gain distance. Though Ramirez is pushed away a foot or too, he quickly regains his footing and attempts to get in range. As Dunn brings his weapon up, Ramirez knocks it off target and both men begin to scuffle.

Not long after Dunn grabs Ramirez and brings his knee into the younger Ranger's gut, striking with two solid blows. He then follows up with a stomp to the Privates leg, getting the younger man on the ground. Knocking Ramirez from a kneeling posture to prone and making a sucker punch to his face, Dunn backs off to gain distance and brings his SCAR up with blinding speed. With a depression of the trigger and the sound of the weapon clicking was an indicator of Dunn's victory.

Ramirez looks up at Dunn from on the ground, groaning. "Nice. You must really enjoy killing me don't you Dunn?"

"Hell yeah, that's five in a row...don't worry dude, now it's your turn, I'll attack, you defend."

The two men have been alternating their roles so that they would both get an opportunity to sharpen their skills. Once Ramirez picked himself up onto his feet, they continued to train at the same pace and intensity as before while Foley observed them off to the side.

"Doing good boys, keep at it. Another half hour and we can turn in for the night." Foley gave his men encouragement. Foley often pushed his men and encouraged them to test their limits, as he saw potential in every single man he commanded. On occasion he'd find a few with an exceptional knack or greater promise, talents with soldiering that lay dormant within that he intended to bring out in his men. He may have been firm, and demanded a lot, but Foley was a fair man. A few times he was told he had officer material by those higher up and was even recommended officers training, but for the time being, he was content with being just another Senior NCO.

Meanwhile, up in a tree a few feet away, Francesca Lucchini, was lying upon the branch of a tree. She intended to catch her sleep, but once the Rangers came into close proximity of her resting place her curiosity had overridden her desire to nap. She watched as Ramirez and Dunn were partaking in their training regimen. She watched with interest as both men advanced on one another. Observing every movement, every blow... the training was different then to what she was used to seeing and had used.

She almost found it eerie, watching training that was concocted to take the life of another person. After a while her curiosity slowly waned and quickly she became disinterested.

_I've seen some silly ideas for training before, but this is just stupid. _

Even despite hearing from the Rangers and the men of the Task Force, she didn't understand why people from the alternate world needed to fight each other. If there's no Neuroi in their world to fight, surely there had to be more important things to worry about?

_The people of their world must be real idiots if they train their soldiers to do this stuff._

Out of nowhere, Foley slowly turns around and looks at Lucchini in the tree. He has a stern look on his face as he observes the youngest girl of the 501st before turning his attention back to his subordinates.

Lucchini shivers a little bit involuntarily at the Sergeants expression. _Boy, he reminds me a bit of the Major while she's training us...scary... _

She was about ready to catch her next forty winks when the faint droning of reciprocating piston engines steadily grows in the night sky. Turning to look up to the source of the steadily growing sound, Lucchini notices a pair of lights in the sky belonging to an aircraft. And it didn't appear to be Sanya, the silhouette was far too big.

_Huh? Is that a plane? _She sat up in the tree and observed the aircraft approach the Base runway and slowly land upon the runway several hundred yards away from the barracks. For some strange reason, once the craft had touched down and came to a stop, her curiosity was rekindled. _I wonder who that could be... probably someone important._

The aircraft's engines eventually cut out, and the young witch noticed that some runway personnel were preparing to have whoever was onboard ready to disembark. They were too far away to make out clearly, but the first person off seemed to be important looking. She had noticed that the person was followed by five armed soldiers, the important looking man appearing to be impatient.

Quite suddenly, for reasons she couldn't understand, she was beginning to feel eerily uncomfortable.

"So what do you think Major? Are there any initial thoughts to these five men?"

Mio took a moment before replying to Minna, her thoughts being carefully weighed. "It's...complicated Minna."

"Complicated? Do explain Major."

Major Sakamoto sighed and shifted the weight of her feet while standing in front of Minna's desk. She took the last two days studying the three rangers and the two members of the Task Force as well as their interactions with the witches and base personnel.

"I know that they all did help us on our mission, and I do think that Sergeant Foley and his men are being genuine. The problem is with Ghost and Roach."

Minna's seemed somewhat concerned at this, her body becoming tense at Mio's disconcerting news. "Did they do something Mio?"

"No, but I do think they are both hiding something. I suppose you can say I can sense it. Ghost did state his intentions however, he doesn't wish to cause the girls harm but he insists on his space and privacy."

Minna seems to relax a little and smiles, somewhat relived in a way. "That doesn't sound unreasonable Major. We did ask them to show us such privacy. I believe in order for them to trust us then we must show them the same level of respect."

"If I may speak freely Minna...

"Yes, of course."

"I think it's something more than that."

"Something more?"

"Yes, I just don't know what it is."

A knock on the door to Minna's office disrupts their conversation. Minna regards Mio for a moment, motioning the Major to the side, to which the Fuso officer complies. "Looks like we may need to put a hold on this conversation for now." Minna turns to the door and speaks to whoever knocked. "Come in."

The door opens, revealing a man in full Karlsland dress uniform carrying a suitcase, with five armed Karlsland Soldiers behind him, which gave Mio and Minna pause. The man motions to the five soldiers silently to stay put and enters, the door swinging closed behind him. Minna immediately recognized the Karlsland general, whose reputation preceded many, his name spoken of in hushed whispers across the Karlasland Military. He was a military giant, a titan. Minna steeled herself, her body straightened, her professionalism emerging in its fullest form before this man.

"Generalveterinär Ekkehard Krupke."

"Wing Commander Wilcke, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm glad to see that my reputation precedes me. Might I ask if I may be accommodated?"

Minna nodded, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. "Of course Herr Generalveterinär, please."

The Karlsland General took a seat, removing his cap and placing it on his lap and the suitcase to his side. "I've heard of some information back home of some rather peculiar, I suppose you can say, events that took place here in the past couple days. I was sent from Nue Karlsland to help sort things out."

Although Minna's face held a neutral expression; deep inside she may have well been frowning at the Generalveterinär's words. False pleasantries, that's all he spoke. No sincerity. Having dealt with Officers and Generals over her military career, she could tell wither a man in dress uniform was sincere or not. There were tells: visual and audio cue's that she could pick up thanks to the experience she gained as an officer. Lesser officers would miss these cues, but then, Minna was no lesser officer, even despite her age. Still, she wouldn't let on she knew this.

"I appreciate it sir. We have a lot on our plate at the moment."

Krupke's eyes darted to Mio quite suddenly. "So who might this be, Wing Commander?"

Mio snapped to attention and saluted. "Sir, Major Mio Sakamoto. 501st Joint Fighter Wing, reporting sir!"

Krupke's gaze seemed to barley regard the Major before he turned his attention back to Minna. "Is that so?" His voice was disinterested.

Mio's saluting hand slowly lowered and she seemed almost shocked by Krupke's cold shoulder treatment, but she regained her composure, her body snapping back at ease. Quite suddenly she was becoming concerned over this man now in her commander's presence, whose eye's looked through the Major as though she was beneath his notice.

Minna's gaze was fixed on Krupke as she spoke. "Major Sakamoto is my second in command Generalveterinär."

Krupke seemed about to say something, but grew silent for a moment in what appeared to be contemplative thought before finally responding. "Well, she seems to be the disciplined sort, that's a rarity for me. If you trust her that much, then I suppose she can be present for this." His eyes dart to the Major again as he retrieves his suitcase. "I had an opportunity to speak with those back at Headquarters about the Neuroi threat in this region in addition to these five men you've told us about. I trust that everything in this room will be kept between us, it was recommended that everything is to be on a need to know basis."

Minna nodded. "For the time being I think that may be necessary."

Krupkes gaze traveled back to Mio. "And you, Major?"

Sakamoto also nodded. "Yes sir, I understand."

Minna's hands interlocked in front of her face, her elbows resting on her desk as she listened carefully to Krupke's words. "So why have you been sent here sir? What is your objective?"

"To put it simply it's to gather intelligence: we don't know the nature of these men or there propose here. We need to shed a light on their motives, and I've been sent to ask them some questions, gauge if they are a threat or not. If they aren't, then hopefully they can help us somehow."

Minna frowns. "Generalveterinär, I'd recommend caution in handling the questioning of these men. They may not have Neuroi in their world, but that just means they have had enough time to focus on killing their fellow man. And judging from what they have told us so far, they have been at it for a long time."

Krupke stands and curtly places his cap back onto his head. "I'll take it under advisement Wing Commander. At this point in time, I'd like to get right to business. I'd like very much to meet with these men and get any first hand information from them."

"With all due respect sir, they will likely be bedding down for the evening. Perhaps it would be best to do so tomorrow afternoon."

Ekkehard Krupke seemed to darken for a moment, a fire in his eyes that smouldered with near unbridled rage, but as soon as it emerged it ebbed away again, his face returning to a more neutral expression. Minna only just noticed it. Krupke's eyes bore into Minna for what seemed like an eternity. Something in his eyes bespoke something that troubled her. At last Krupke tipped his hat.

"Very well Wing Commander Wilcke, tomorrow. Perhaps at 11:30? The sooner we get to the task at hand the better, I think." A small smile then slowly crossed his face. "I was told to use any means at my disposal that I believe necessary in my judgment to find what I'm looking for. Until then, I'll need living quarters."

"I'm sure we will find something that will serve you sir." Minna turned to Mio and gestured to the door. "Major, would you please escort Generalveterinär Krupke to V.I.P. quarters?"

Mio snapped to attention and saluted her Commander. "Yes mamm."

Krupke nodded. "Good. Thank you, Commader Wilcke. I have the feeling we will have a very eventful day tomorrow."

"We will have to see Generalveterinär."

"Indeed."

"God dammit!" Roach curses and leans back in his chair. Seven hours of working on cracking the DSM's password has thus far proved fruitless. Every possible permutation for a password has yielded nothing in terms of progress. The DSM was still locked, stubbornly guarding the Intel that lay inside, much like a chest with treasure sealed inside that had been rusted shut. "I'm coming up empty Lieutenant. Nothing I've entered is going to get us into this DSM."

Ghost sighs as he approaches his squad mate. "Keep at it Roach, we can't pack it in just yet."

"Let me guess, we're not catching 40 winks until we figure out the password, am I right?"

"Bingo on that soldier, let's keep trying."

Roach gives a terse laugh. "Figures I guess. No rest for the weary."

"I'm afraid not Sergeant."

Meanwhile, Captain Barkhorn sat at the war rooms table. Gertrude had spent the rest of the day with Ghost and Roach, the whole while observing both men, trying to figure them out. To see what these soldiers from another world were like, perhaps gauge from them what sort of world they fought and served in. From what she could see and sense, she wasn't able to gain very much insight, but nevertheless, she did gleam something.

She could tell off the bat that from the way these two men acted; how they spoke and their overall mannerisms that they were no mere soldiers. They were not regulars, they were much too disciplined. Their movements and actions were deliberate, almost as if they were hardwired to be like this, like they were born for combat. She had reason to believe that they were both some sort of elite operators, possibly part of some Special Operations force. And judging from how secretive they seemed, how generically they spoke of themselves, and even the "names" they used that the majority of the things they did were clandestine and from what she had heard of from Ghost, morally ambiguous.

They were in her mind the best trained people of their world, and from what she saw of their weapons, probably also the best equipped. She found them intriguing, and what she found even more intriguing was that they and their comrades were now on the defensive. She started to wonder what could have happened to land them in such a position. If they were as elite and professional as she assumed, then how did they get ambushed like they did? At first she thought it could have been laziness, but after spending this much time with them and watching their professionalism first hand on the field and off, she discounted that idea. Could it have been some sort of momentary slip up or bad luck? Possible, some combat operators fall victim to bad timing and other misfortune in the ever fluid and changing battlefield, and that's oftentimes just how things turn out even despite hours of planning against Known Unknowns.

But what of Unknown Unknowns? What if their misfortune was something that they couldn't possibly foresee? Something hidden in shadow that was kept from the disciplined eyes of these two operators? Gertrude soon wondered and feared if Witches would one day suffer a similar fate...

She had spent a lot of time with her thoughts up to this point, and now with Ghost and Roach racking their brains to find the answers they need from this DSM device, she decided to assist.

"Perhaps the password is something obvious, something that you're both missing."

Both men turn to regard her statement, both appearing thoughtful. Ghost rubs his chin. "Maybe, only question is what could it be?"

Gertrude thinks for a moment. "Tell me about this Shepherd you both worked with."

Roach regards Gertrude's question carefully. "Well, he's a bit of a stickler's stickler. Ever since that Nuke went off five years ago, he's gotten to the point where he puts the mission above everything else, even the lives of his own men. A few times he's called danger close within fifty meters or less with units under his command without as much as second thought." Roach scoffs and crosses his arms. "Plus the fucker has no sense of humour."

Ghost chuckles and gestures over to Roach while recalling a fond moment of nostalgia. "Hard to believe Roach here used to be the funny man in the 141. Happy go lucky kid when I first saw him, a little annoying but well meaning. At least until Shepherd whipped it out of him."

Roach give's Ghost a playful punch to the shoulder in response, laughing. "Not completely dude, I just try and do it out of ear shot of that old stick in the mud. Then again seeing as he's a backstabbing asshole who tried to kill us, I can pull as many jokes and pranks as I want and not give a shit what he thinks."

Ghost laughs. "Bloody hell and I was just getting used to the all business, professional Roach. I could barley stomach ya as a prankster."

"Well guess what dude, the pranksters back in town so you better get used to it."

Gertrude clears her throat, which quickly snaps the two men back to reality. Roach falls silent and turns his head up, feigning innocence.

Ghost coughs awkwardly and continues. "Er, right. In case it isn't obvious, Shepherd is rather a bit of a dick. If he has any real redeeming qualities it's that he loves his country with every fiber of his being. General Shepherd served as the supreme commander of the U.S. forces in the Middle East during the course of the Second Russian Civil War. He also places a lot of stock in learning from history and leaving your mark in it."

Gertrude becomes thoughtful. "The man sounds like a Patriot."

"I guess-" Ghost suddenly stops as a thought quickly comes to him. _Hold on... could it be..._ Abruptly he turns to Roach. "Roach, the Computer."

"What?"

Ghost quickly hurries Roach back to the chair in front of the Computer, pointing to the terminal. "Roach, type in "Patriot" as the password."

Roach peers at Ghost for a minute, confused. But he then turns back to the computer terminal, types on the keyboard and hits the enter key. The screen's loading icon starts to register, the loading bar appearing and filling completely until finally a prompt appears reading: PASSWORD ACCEPTED.

Roach is in disbelief. "I'll be damned. It worked."

Though you couldn't tell due to the balaclava, Ghost was grinning from ear to ear. He turns to Gertrude, giving a soft chuckle. "You're a genius Barkhorn."

"Not at all Lieutenant, I'm glad to be of assistance."

Roach quickly fiddles with the computer keyboard with Ghost hovering over him. The Task Force Sergeant begins to access the encrypted files held in the DSM. But what he finds is standard. Safe house locations, personnel lists, reports, transactions and the like. Nothing spectacular or incriminating, save for where Makarov could possibly be next and what his operational strength is. Presently, he comes across one file that has a personal report from Makarov himself. Roach exchanges a glance with his Lieutenant, a look in his eyes that seemed to read: _Should we have a look?_

Ghost nods, and at that Roach opens the file, revealing three documents, one of which was dated the day of the massacre, the time placing it a few hours after that deed. Both men begin to read the first document.

_The mission has been completed. Lev and Kiril were killed in action with the FSB during our evacuation. It's unfortunate, they were good men, but they died so that our cause will come to be. Anatoly was at our pick up point right on time... he was trained well. I personally dealt with the deceit of the American operative in our ranks. His death will serve us in the long run; it's almost ironic that one who would try to engineer our down fall would instead be the down fall of our enemy. _

_But even with the success of today's mission, there has been much personal sacrifice. My oldest, dearest friend... how could he stoop so low, what could have compelled him? He tried to tell the American and the FSB of our plans; I've suspected for months and so needed to give false information, but to actually know his betrayal as fact and for so long... an example needed to be made. Nothing can stop this, what we have done and will do will last an eternity. Our actions will echo through time. And any interference of our mission will be dealt with. We will succeed, no matter the cost. The mighty west will fall like Goliath before David. _

_I'll need to send Viktor on another mission, deep within the enemy's lines. Thiers an HIV that we will need to make contact with, extract information from him. I'll send a man or two with Vickor for this mission. I will have Vicktor and his men infiltrate during the invasion once the Russian army's invasion gets under way, use the soldiers to cover my men, wither they know it or not. I nearly have a foot hold in the military, I just need more time. Once I do, we shall see who has the stronger will..._

Both men of the Task Force are eerily silent. Roach goes into the next two documents, finding them similarly written to the first, the last document speaking about Makarov meeting with other members of the Ultranationalists in the boneyard. Gertrude picks herself up out of the chair and slowly approaches the two men, concerned that they were both deathly silent.

"What is it? What have you both found?"

Roach shakes his head. "What do you make of this, Lieutenant?"

Ghost stairs at the screen for a long time, murmuring something under his breath, reading the information presented before him. The wheels in his brain were slowly turning. "So that's how it is."

Roach and Gertrude turned to the Task Force Lieutenant questioningly. Roach speaks nervously. "How what is? You don't mean that Shepherd is in bed with Makarov do you?" Ghost notices their confusion and proceeds to fill them in, moving away from the terminal.

"Not at all: These two men hate each others guts on principle alone. I know now just what's going on and why. Why we're in this mess in the first god damned place." Ghost gestures over to the War room table. "It's an elaborate game of chess Roach. The only thing they share in common is the desire for war, but that's where the similarities end. Makarov wants to destroy Western influence. Americans, British, every western country and nation levelled for his cause. And he's pulling strings, operating in shadow. Clever sonovabitch is one step ahead of everyone."

Roach sighs. "Okay, that's obvious, but how the hell dose Shepherd fit in? Why did he try and kill us and the rest of the Task Force?"

"You remember the Nuke five years back?" Roach nods affirmative, prompting the older man to continue. "Only one reason for it: America suffered 30,000 casualties. That was the fracture point for the old Yank. I bet he felt pissed that went down like it did, that his country's military might was crippled. A patriot facing something like that, if his mind gets in a bad place, would be willing to do anything to set that mess right, everyone else be damned. Shepherd wants a war to restore America's military dominance, to renew the American war machine and prove that they can still beat the ever living gobshit out of the enemy. Everyone has just been a means to that end." Ghost falls silent for a moment, deep in thought. He suddenly brings his fist down upon the war room table, causing Gertrude and Roach to jump in surprise. "WE WE'RE JUST PAWNS!"

Roach's throat goes dry. "P-Pawns?"

"We were played Roach; we all were by both sides! Those two bastards we're running Gambit after Gambit on each other to achieve their goals! Shepherd needed this Intel for two reasons: He wanted to play the hero for his country, bring it back to its full power and he needed to get actionable Intel to do it. This DSM has it. The 141 would be in the way of that, and knowing him, he wasn't about to have us steal his thunder. And of course, secondly... because this Intel alone would fill us in regarding the bigger, overall picture, what these two fuckers were doing in the grand scheme of things." Ghost scoffs. "It's fucking brilliant mate. We were none the wiser."

Gertrude is gaping in shock. Such levels of treachery and blatant blood lusting hatred were simply unfathomable to her. "Surely that cannot be possible! It must be a mistake!"

Ghost turns to Gertrude, groaning at the young witch's naivety. "The only mistake here is that those two decided to toy with and use others for their goals."

Roach turns to his Lieutenant and cracks his knuckles. "So...what will we do Ghost?"

Ghost draws his G18, cocks it ready and flourishes it, his eyes and voice darkening. "Simple mate: We Kill'em." He gestures first to Roach then over to the DSM. "Get that DSM packed away, we're going to figure out how to get home and we're going to get this thing to Price and Soap. First we take down Shepherd, after that we tear Makarov a new one with the Intel we have here."

"Roger that." Roach closes the files on the computer and then takes the DSM, stuffing it into his Jacket. Just as both men are about to leave the war room, Gertrude confronts them.

"You plan on killing these two men? That is your idea of justice?"

Ghost stops in front of Gertrude wearing a dull look, his eyes looking bored. "Does it really matter to you Captain Barkhorn? It's our world; it's our business how we deal with things in it." He takes a knee so he's eye level with her, crossing his arms and locking his gaze with hers. "If someone you thought a comrade decided to betray you and your unit just so he can take down another guy who was taking innocent lives, lives that you were charged with protecting, then just what would you do? Answer me that."

Gertrude tried to say something in protest, but to her dismay nothing came. Her words died in the throat, unable to form any defence regarding her feelings on the mater. She was at a loss.

Ghost stood fully erect and holstered his Machine pistol. "Thought so. Come on Roach, we're off."

Ghost and Roach leave the war room while Gertrude silently contemplated Ghost's words. Was it really how it had to be in that world of men killing men? Or did Ghost speak only from his own feelings? She couldn't know. She peered through a nearby window, the night sky filled with stars, the base grounds quite and desolate. She had heard of the deeds of these men from the other world. But that world was as alien and unknown as the Neuroi she had fought. She wondered if perhaps it would be better that way.

But she made a promise, and a disciplined Karlslander honours her promises. She cursed silently despite herself. It was late; lights out would soon be upon her and tomorrow is a new day. If she was going to be ready to face what's about to come, she knew she would need the energy to face it.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

A pair of gullied silhouettes are currently moving though the field, contrasted with the vast, hilly country side. Both men had been pursued for two days, trying to escape both Ultranationalists and Shepherd's Shadow Company. One of them, the older of the two, was being carried by the younger man by way of a pack-strap carry on the younger man's back. The older uniformed soldier had one MK14 EBR on his back and another over his shoulder and was fully gullied, with the younger man carrying an M4A1 in one hand, the hood on his Gullie suit lowered, exposing his helmeted head. The older Sniper had a large wound below his shoulder indicative of a high powered rifle, with another set of bullet wounds on his left pelvis and thigh that was the handy work of a UMP. His wounds were hastily patched, and blood still seeped slowly onto the younger mans back.

Both men only had enough of an opportunity the day before to send a message to Captains Price and MacTavish about their status, which barley lasted thirty seconds over a beaten old payphone in the middle of nowhere. Having to try and slip past the men of Shadow Company was a huge challenge even for the veteran snipers of the 141.

Archer glanced back for a moment, checking to see if their pursuers were still giving chase. For the time being, it seems clear. Quiet.

"I think we shook them son. Now might be as good enough a time to pace ourselves and have a breather."

Toad shook his head, the young American refusing to stop or slow down. "No way sir, I'm headed to find you some help or die trying. It's Himachal Pradesh or bust."

Himachal Pradesh was where one of Nikolai's safe houses were. Price recommended that any surviving members of the Task Force would rally and regroup at that particular safe house And to their dismay, it was a rather small number. Toad had lost more battle brothers then he could count, he wasn't about to let his mentor die next.

"You've been at this for hours son, you'll need to keep your strength up if your expect to carry my sorry old shot up ass out of here."

Toad growled in frustration. "I know, but part of me dosn't give a damn!"

"If you tire yourself you'll only make those bastards job of hunting and killing us easier. Don't push your self too hard or too little. Just enough to be useful. Come like the wind, go like lightning"

Toad pauses for a moment, panting heavily and sweating like a stuck pig. "Where did you get that one from?"

Archer smiles weakly. "Art of war, paraphrased a little of course..." Archer catches a breath and continues. "Of course its possible that they could be on our six without pressing us while we retire from engagement. So it's best we continue forward. But then, if we push too much, we may tire and provide the enemy an opportunity to overtake, engage and route us easily."

Toad becomes visibly confused. "So what exactly are you trying to say? You know I'm no good at that Karate Kid Moonspeak Gibberish."

"Balance, Knowledge and Wisdom in our actions and tactics Toad. Use terrine to our advantage, turn weakness into strength."

Toad rolls his eyes, groaning and continues to press forward, though its at a slightly lower pace to conserve energy. "Now I know you've been talking to _her _before we shipped out for this mission, have't you?"

Archer laughs. "It's that obvious? She's young, but she's got that wisdom and insight I envy. You could learn from her Toad."

Toad scoffs. "Whatever. I was never into that whole Zen thing. Rather put my faith in my skill then karma." After a moments silence, Toad speaks sincerely. "You doing alright, Archer?"

"I've been worse."

"You just hang on, let me do the work while you rest."

"I may be shot lad, but I can still hold my own."

Toad grins. "I don't doubt that. But all the same, leave the heavy lifting to me. I don't want you pushing daises on me anytime soon."

"If you say so lad. Just remember everything I taught you."

Toad nods. "Best opportunity to put it into practice."

* * *

><p>One of the lab techs was observing a monitor while writing the data on screen down in his notepad, while Ursula was using another device from within ground zero. The device was large, box-like device known as a Magi-Barometer. A few knobs, dials and buttons adorned one side of the device with a display showing measurements of magic energy. After several moments gathering necessary data, Ursula proceeds to a tent with the device in tow. Stepping inside, she sets the device onto the side of a work bench, where several tools are resting and a small mechanical device lay half finished. Picking up a jewelers screwdriver from the work bench, she starts tightening screws in the device, occasionally turning to a small diagram. She muddles with the devices inner workings until she replaces a small panel resting atop the schematics.<p>

"There, this should be able to do what is needed."

She momentarily inspected the device until one of the lab technicians entered. He seemed to be concerned, which caught her attention.

"Flying Officer Heartman!"

"What is it?" She asked, setting the just finished device on the work bench.

"Our instruments have just detected an energy spike at ground zero."

"A spike? Are you sure?"

The Lab-tech nods affirmative. "It was just for a moment but the readings are positive of this. It seems to have settled down though."

"That's the third instance in the last four hours. How strong was the reading?"

"Magic levels indicate an above average discharge of Mana. We are still unable to get an accurate prediction as to how far it will grow or how it will react. One of our instruments blew a generator on this one, it will need to be either repaired or replaced."

Ursula weighed the situation carefully for a moment before coming to a decision. "Continue monitoring and keep me apprised. And as of now, replace the blown generator. If there's any further spikes let me know."

"Yes Mamm."

With that, the Lab-tech exits the tent, leaving Ursula alone. At which point she is left to ponder silently. With the spikes occurring so often, was the portal starting to build up magic energy to link another bridge through the fabric of reality? If that is the case, then she knew it was only a matter of time before it would reach critical mass. As of now, the raw magic energy flowing from the Runes glowing dimly at ground zero were building in an uncontrolled, unpredictable manner. It was unstable.

But having gotten strong readings and having studied the location vigorously, her new invention may be key in providing a viable solution for the five visitors of the other world. The only question now is wither the five men would have a good enough window home, if they are even given that opportunity.

* * *

><p>Roach didn't know what to expect when he got out of bed today, but he, like the Lieutenant, did have an unexplainable feeling that something was up. Both he, Ghost, Foley, Ramirez and Dunn were called to a particular location on base that could only be described as a Military Police Office, escorted by Major Sakamoto and Five armed soldiers that seemed not to have been members of the base. It made him uneasy.<p>

The five men sat at a table with five armed soldiers in the room respectfully. The only thing they knew for sure was what the Major had told them, which was that someone from the Witches Military Head Quarters had come to see the five of them. And beyond that, they knew little else.

The Rangers wore confused, yet wary expressions, while Ghost was, of course, as stoic and expressionless as usual. Roach was nervous, but he kept himself on his toes. He may have had gotten jumped by someone else before it wasn't going to happen again.

After spending several minutes in uncomfortable silence, the door to the room opens. The Rangers and the two men of the Task Force are met with a man who seemed to be wearing a German Officers Uniform. As the five men turn to him Ghost eyes the man for a moment. After that moment passes he scoffs and turns his head away, his arms crossed in an indignant manner. Roach notices this and turns to his Lieutenant. Already Roach can tell from the older operator's body language that Ghost wanted nothing to do with this man, and immediately that worried him.

"Good day gentlemen. I'm Ekkehard Krupke, Generalveterinär of the Karlsland Military. Headquarters has seen fit to send me to get an appraisal of the situation and to see just what your stories are. I suppose the best place to start is to get to know who you men are."

Sergeant Foley is first to address Krupke. "Alright, good as any place to start; I'm Sergeant Foley, acting commander of Hunter-21, 75th Ranger Regiment, United States Army." He then motions to Dunn and Ramirez. "And these are my squad mates: Corporeal Dunn and Private Ramirez."

Both of the subordinate Rangers give their salutations, to which Krupke nods and turns his attention to the two men of the Task Force. "And what of you two? Whom might you be?"

After a pause, Ghost addresses the Karlsland General, still cross armed and disinterested. "Call me Ghost. And this here is Roach."

Krupke grins wryly. "Ah, interesting. Such strange names, are they perhaps call signs?"

Ghost doesn't reply, he was already going though in his mind what the exact nature of the meeting could be, but everything about this sit down was suspect. So far as long this unknown man questioning them didn't do anything stupid, then Ghost wouldn't have to worry about taking aggressive action. For now, he would play it by ear.

After a moments silence, Krupke shrugs and pulls out a file and continues. "Very well then, Lieutenant Ghost." Krupke takes a seat at the table, facing the five men. "Moving on to the point, I need to ask you gentlemen a few questions. If you could answer them, it would be most helpful."

"That will depend upon the questions, mate." Ghost states simply.

"Then let's start with the basics then. What is your purpose here on this base, and how did you get here?"

Foley replies earnestly and explains. "We aren't here to make trouble sir. My men and I were fighting off a Russian invasion occurring in our country. Unfortunately, the situation was at the point where we were being overwhelmed with enemy forces and we needed to fall back. While doing that however, we were crossing a bridge set to blow up when we were enveloped by a light emanating from some sort of rune beneath our feet. Next thing we know, we wound up here."

Krupke seems intrigued by this, his eyebrow raised in mild surprise and interest. "Really? Who are these "Russians" you say you are fighting?"

"You'd know them as Orussians."

Krupke glances to Ghost, awaiting the Lieutenants story. Ghost exhales and explains. "Roach and I were on a mission that went south, so far we might have been the only ones alive from that OP in the Causcus Mountains."

"Curious. Then the report that Commander Minna has given is at least accurate in that regard." Krupke keeps his attention on the men of the Task Force. "What of you two. You don't appear to be in the same unit or army as these Rangers. With whom do you operate with?"

Ghost's head turns to Krupke, and his eye's seem to regard the Karlslander carefully. "Everything you need to know is in the Commanders report. You've read it, it gives our story, so why the front?"

The Karlslander General frowns at Ghost's response. He begins to think that Ghost may give him trouble. "Thiers's no front, Lieutenant. I know Commander Minna had given a rather detailed report on you five gentlemen, I just wish to confirm her findings."

Ghost didn't seem convinced, but grunted in acknowledgement. No need to stir the hornets' nest before trying alternative solutions...

After a pause, the old Kalrslander opens and flips through the file in his hand as he speaks. "I suppose you and you're colleague are members of a Special Operations Unit? If so it would explain your hesitation. I'll just need to start asking questions you can answer."

Roach and Ghost noticed that Krupke has a strange grin on his face. "Now I've heard a great deal of your exploits, all five of you, and how you had helped the members of the 501st out in the field."

Foley nodded. "Yeah, we figured the girls would need some help, so we thought we could pitch in and do our part. Just because we're not from this world doesn't mean we can't help people."

Krupke smiles at the Sergeants response. "That's a good thing to know Sergeant. It's just that I find it surprising you'd be willing to face an unknown enemy so willingly."

Dunn scoffs. "What, those Neuroi things? Yeah, they're the weirdest damn things I've ever seen, but if they fuck with us, we'll fuck with them."

Ramirez nods. "Hell yeah."

Krupke considers the three Rangers briefly, and then continues. "You all have commendable bravery and skill. You are truly the pinnacle of what a soldier should strive to be. I respect that."

Foley gives a subdued smile. "Thank you sir."

"Tell you what; I can help you if you can help me. I can help you men back to your reality if you can help me with a problem."

Ghost was immediately suspicious. "What sort of problem? You mean the Neuroi?"

"No, not directly at any rate, though it stems from the Neuroi." The Karlslander General leans forward and lowers his voice. "You know that because of those alien bastards, our world's nations use witches for most of the direct assaults on the Neuroi's forces."

"So we heard." Foley replies evenly. "We heard that conventional units don't stand a very good chance by themselves."

"It's a difficult fact to live with. I for one wish to change this, and there's a handful of others who also wish to see this changed."

Roach finally gets a chance to speak, his curiosity now at its peak. "And how do you figure on changing that?"

Krupke smile is a cold one. "Simple: By removing the joint fighter wings."

The backs of Ghost and Roach straiten at this revelation. Roach is taken aback. "Remove?"

Foley, Dunn and Ramirez are confused, not sure exactly what's being said. The three Rangers look between both the Karlslander and the two members of the Task Force.

Krupke explains. "Do you know what it is like to live in the shadow of young girls with no clue what it means to fight in a war.? War is a man's domain. These girls have no business on the front, when they don't understand the gravity of the situation. It's insulting really."

If Ghost could feel it, he would be feeling rage right about now. Krupke's words were starting to sound similar to someone that Ghost wanted dead, and that wasn't a good thing. "They seem to understand well enough about the situation to me General. Besides, you need witches to combat Neuroi with any sort of effectiveness."

"Those in the military's higher echelons wish to see power back in the hands of our conventional forces, where it belongs. Many ideas have been brought forth, but few are actually being followed through on."

Ghost places his hands on the table and gets right into the Karlsland man's face, his strained patience wearing thin. "Stop beating round the bush and tell us just what are you asking us exactly."

"I need your weapons and equipment."

Foley becomes confused. "You want our weapons?" The three Rangers exchange confused glances. They could not understand why they are being asked for their weapons.

Dunn looks questioningly at Krupke. "Why the hell do you want our weapons?"

Ghost now saw that his suspicions were not misplaced; he turns to Dunn in response. "He wants to gain an edge over the Neuroi with superior firepower to make witches obsolete."

Krupke is impressed, believing that this opportunity has become favourable to his cause. "Ah, you understand Ghost. Very good, do I have your suppor-"

"Fuck you, mate."

"Excuse me?"

"Fuck. You."

Krupke seems flabbergasted at first, blindsided by Ghost's blunt answer. He was being denied these men's weapons, that could serve to bring his vision to fruition? It was unthinkabule. His face then straightens and he clears his throat. "Do you speak for everyone or only yourself, Lieutenant?"

"He speaks for me." Roach puts in bluntly.

After quietly whispering amongst themselves, the Rangers seem to finally come to a consensus, with Foley finally speaking. "While I can understand the need to get a tactical edge over these Neuroi things, even barring the fact that you'd be using kids to fight them, getting rid of the Joint Fighter Wings is the most damned ill conceived course of action I can think of. Getting rid of a clear edge against an enemy like this will wind up costing you men, resources and territory. Those girls and their magic is the only good thing you have going for youselfs."

"In short, it's fucking retarded." Dunn puts in.

Krupke glowers at the five men before him. "You better consider this very carefully, gentlemen. You shouldn't be so hasty in making a decesion like this lightl-."

"You have our answer, so are we done here?" Ghost interrupts. He's had enough of the Karlslander. Ghost saw that this man just wanted to toss aside fighter wings like the 501st. Just like how Shepherd did to the 141. And it didn't matter what universe he was in, Ghost wasn't about to abide that sort of bullshit.

Ekkehard Krupke's face darkens considerably; a not so subtle rage could be seen emanating from him. "It seems you have decided to be uncooperative. That's a shame really. Your true soldiers, so it pains me to have to do this."

Almost as if on cue, Krupke's men cock their weapons and start leveling them. But to their surprise, Ghost and Roach are already on their feet, leaping over the table with Ghost producing a pair of G18 machine pistols and Roach drawing a pistol and Knife. Once his feet meet the floor, Ghost Aims one G18 at Krupke's head and the other aimed at the senior looking squad member with the STG44. Roach put his M9 to one Kalsland soldier's temple and the knife to the throat of a man standing next to his first target. The Rangers all utter an assorted string of curses, bolting out of their chairs and trying to draw their sidearms. The last Karlslander, the FNG, fumbles with his weapon, overwhelmed with fear, unable to draw his weapon cleanly. Krupke is now looking down the barrel of Ghost's pistol, and his men are frozen in shock.

Ghost speaks slowly, making sure his words are clearly heard. "Drop em."

The Karlsland soldiers glance nervously to each other, they have used displays of force before to sway complyence, but never before has anyone anticipated this and resisted, much less out match them. The veteran squad member turns to Krupke with a confused expression. "Generalveterinär?"

Krupke seems to ponder his position quietly, trying to think of some way to retake control of the situation. It seemed that he truly didn't expect Ghost and Roach to react this way at all.

"Either you order them to stand down and drop their weapons or this will get very messy, real fast." Ghost threatened. "And eject the magazines as well."

Defeated, Krupke nods to his men, silently ordering them to comply. With some hesitation, the soldiers eject the full clips from their weapons and cast them away, completely at the mercy of the two men of the 141, who proved to be quicker on the draw.

Ghost's head snapped to Krupke, looking extremely annoyed. "You made the wrong choice old man. I could sense this coming a mile off. You think you can just ask us for our weapons and equipment and when we say no you try and take em? Don't get me wrong, I could do my job with anything from a spoon to my own bare hands. The body is the first weapon to train with and develop... but this pistol I'm currently holding to your skull is an extension of my being. And I'd prefer a means of extending my reach to stay alive, especially when I get my boots back on the ground in my world. You think you can try and take us on, your terribly mistaken, mate." Ghost glares over his sunglasses and jams the barrel of his weapon against the Karlslander Generals forehead. "Do NOT fuck with me."

Krupke's eyes dart between Ghost and his pistol. He seemed more frustrated than afraid, but eventually after studying the Lieutenant, Krupke growls in resigned frustration. "It seems I miscalculated my odds. I didn't expect you to take such reckless action. So what happens now, Lieutenant?"

"You let us walk out, we go about our day and you keep your distance."

Krupke scoffs. "Just like that; right after you pull this little stunt?

"Or I can just pull the trigger and see how far Roach and I can get if you keep your run of bad choices up? It's your call really."

The old Karlslander peers at Ghost, trying to read the Task Force Lieutnenant. "You're bluffing"

"Am I?" Ghost cooed in an eerie manner. "Are you willing to place a bet like that hoping that I am bluffing? Because it's a bet I'll guarantee you'll lose."

It was then that Krupke turned slightly pale, realizing that the five men he had brought with him wouldn't have been enough against this masked man before him. The old Kralslander spoke slowly through gritted teeth. "Somehow I'll make you regret your decision." He tried to sound convincing in his threat, but in truth he could barley even convince himself.

"I'm quaking in my combat boots mate. Fantasize to your heart's content for all I care. But if I sense you making a move against me, my subordinate or the Ranger's here, you won't even hear me coming. I've made plenty of kills like that before, and I can certainly do it again. So, are you going to play nice?"

Krupke is silently fuming, but he cannot hide the fact he is breaking into a cold sweat either. The tables have clearly turned. Ghost just grins his balaclava hidden grin. "I'll take that as a yes then." Ghost then turns to Roach and gestures to him. Roach nods and both men lower their weapons from their targets. Ghost then turns to the Rangers, who had half drawn their sidearms. "Foley, you and your men move, sharpish."

The amazed Rangers of Hunter-21 comply, with Foley nodding in approval. Dunn casts an angry look at Krupke, muttering "asshole" as he passes. Ramirez mouths "badass" to the two men of the task force as he follows his fellow Rangers.

Despite his position, Krupke still tries to get a word in. "The 501st already foiled project Warlock. The potential power it could provide for the conventional military, now gone because of the foolish, selfishness of children!"

Ghost recalls from talking to the witches of the Warlock project, a prototype war machine powered by a Neuroi core. Ghost motions for Roach to leave the room, and before he turns to follow him out, Ghost addresses Krupke one last time. "Yeah, I heard about how that little project blew up in your faces, and that the girls had to clean your mess up for you. Using the heart of one of your enemy to power the damn thing has got to be the pinnacle of stupidity. If given the choice of military power between an alien's heart and a fighter wing of witches, I'd take the girls any day."

"Then you're a fool. Those stupid girls have no business in the military; it's an insult to humanities soldiers. One way or another, I'll see to it they are removed."

Ghost eyes bore though Krupke's soul in an icy gaze, snarling in anger, his face meeting the wretched old Karlslander. "You do anything to those girls... and I'll do things that will make you beg me to kill you." As Ghost steps back from Krupke and keeps his G18s on the rooms occupants, he cautions them. "You raise your weapons, you die. You follow us, you die. You try and fuck with us, you die. Get the picture mates?"

The men in the room nod. "Good. Now sit tight, maybe swap scone recipes or something." Ghost steps back out of the room, closes the door and barricades it with a shelf resting nearby. Once the door is barricaded and the men inside are heard banging on the door from within, Ghost marches briskly down the hall, catching up with the others.

Once the Task Force Lietenant takes the lead, Foley speaks to Ghost while the five men are moving. "So what's our course of action Ghost, because I'm under the impression that that guy isn't going to be too happy once he's out of there."

"We're working against the clock gentlemen. We have a lot to do, little time to do it, and right now I have barley even got a quarter of a plan."

Dunn quips dryly on the situation. "Well, you two may have pulled off an amazing feat of badass motherfuckery, but in all seriousness, what the fuck just happened?"

"He didn't like our answer to his question and got a bit testy." Ghost replies only half joking. "Right now, we better get squared away. We don't find a way out of here today; we might not make it home."

Foley nods. "Right, seeing as your of senior rank and this sort of action will be more your bread and butter, you can lead on Lieutenant. My men and I will follow, Hooah?"

"Very well Sergeant, just be sure to follow what I say, when I say it. Fast Op's like this will require immediate, on the fly thinking and action. No hesitation, no fuck ups. You get it wrong, game over."

"Understood Lieutenant, and don't worry, we're fast learners."

As they round a corner, Ghost notices Gertrude and Erica talking in the hall, the two girls in the middle of a conversation. He then gets an idea. "Good, because schools in session; Fast Ops 101." Ghost then calls to Gertrude and Erica. "Barkhorn! Hartmann! Walk with us!"

The two girls take notice of Ghost's commanding voice and comply. Barkhorn clearly looks surprised. "Ghost, what's going on? Why are you five out here already, I thought you we're all in a meeting with the Generalveterinär?"

"That's kind of the problem, luv. We've got to get off this base, fast."

Gertrude's eyes widen and her jaw slackens. "What do you mean by that? What the hell did you five do?"

"You want the long version or the short version?" Dunn asks in deadpan.

"Short would be nice." Erica's is smiling a Cheshire cat's grin, which shocks and infuriates Barkhorn.

Ramirez shakes his head, gesturing with his thumb to his six o-clock. "Did you guys know that this Krupke dude is a bit of a dickweed? That guy had his goons level their weapons on us!"

Roach continues, going into further detail. "He wants our help by giving him our weapons and getting the 501st and other Joint Fighter Wings shut down."

Gertrud curses upon hearing this. Ghost noticed that she didn't seem as surprised as she should have been, and this little fact intrigued him while Gertrud continued. "It's just like Maloney all over again, should have known he'd try something like this."

Ghost begins probing Gertrud with questions. "You know anything on him? What's his story?"

Gertrud sighs. "Krupke is a bit of a legend in the Karlsland Military, but certainly not for anything good, I can assure you. It's rumoured he and Maloney had a bit of a report going, and the one thing they felt strongly about was the dislike of witches. Krupke always treated Joint Fighter Wings with contempt, and it is said he taught his men to hate witches too, make it sound to them as though we are taking credit away and insulting the conventional forces. I even heard that whenever a witch set foot on his base in Nue Kalsland, that he made their visit less then pleasant. When violence and harassment reports came up he often looked the other way or denied any wrong doing." Gertrud growled quietly, her voice growing in rage as she went on, "One alleged case was reported that a young witch was gang raped in her quarters, somehow he managed to hide the evidence of that, made the truth of what happened into a false rumour."

Ramirez was eerily quiet for a moment, and then turned in the opposite direction of the group. "THAT FUCKER, I'LL KILL HIM!"

Roach quickly grabbed the private's collar and dragged him along. "Take it easy Private! He'll get his; right now we got to worry about making ourselves scarce before they raise the alarm."

Ramirez curses but reluctantly complies, continuing to move with the group. "So what, do we run?"

Ghost shakes his head negative in response. "Not on foot. First we get to our rooms and get our weapons and gear, and then we'll need a set of wheels to escape the base parameter. But even then, we will need a way home, and that part I have nothing solid on."

Erica grins, gesturing to herself in a playful manner. "I can call Ursula to help out. By now she must have figured out a way for you all to get home. I'll get to a phone and let her know your own your way and to prepare for you guys."

Gertrud's head snapped to Erica. "Forget it Heartmann, it's too risky, especially if we're dealing with Krupke. I'm not going to let him find some way of making your life a living hell if he finds out."

Ghost considers this for a moment. It's quite possible that if he gets the girls to help, that Krupke could suspect them and find some way to get retribution. And he wasn't about to let that happen. But then, how are they going to get out of this predicament? Racking his brain, an idea suddenly comes to the Lieutenant that could serve to address this.

"Not if you girls are under duress. If it looks as if we are forcing you both to help us, then you have an alibi for that lousy old sod. He can't punish you without facing backlash himself, not in that situation."

Erica smiles a toothy grin. "Sounds good enough to me, Trudy you can stay with them while I let Ursula know what's going on."

Roach however seems skeptical. "Why are you so willing to help us anyways?"

The young Flying Officer replies matter-of-factly. "Because, you all seem like nice people, and I heard from Trudy that she kept a promise to you." She looks over to Gertrude, glowing happily. "She didn't tell me what it was, but if I know Trudy she always keeps her promises once she makes them. If it's to you, then it's likely a promise to get you home. She's always watched my back, so this time I'll get to watch hers."

Ghost is impressed. Erica had deduced the situation correctly, even though she seemed incredibly laidback. The Task Force Lieutenant nods and gestures down the hall. "Alright, you do what you have to; the rest of us will head to the barracks for our gear and then the motor pool."

"Consider it done. Trude, you take care alright?"

Gertrud nods, looking rather serious. "Be Careful Heartmann."

"I will, I promise."

With that, Erica bolts off to find a phone. After watching the younger Karlslander turn down a corridor, Gertrud turns her attention to Ghost. "First we will need to get your weapons and gear, correct?"

"Roger, I'll have to keep one of my pistols on you, if we're going to make this ruse work." Ghost explains as he aims one of his G18's to the back of Gertrud's head, being sure to practice trigger discipline, his finger next the trigger instead of over it.

Gertrud can almost sense the pistol being trained an inch or so from her skull. But it would need to take a lot more then this to rattle her. "I'll lead you to the barracks then." She pauses a moment. "I trust you Lieutenant." She adds.

"And I you, Captain."

* * *

><p>Jay Lambert gazes through his binoculars while the rest of the platoon was lying prone off the road. Two miles off in the distance, Jay could see where the bridge had collapsed into the river. He noted several Russian patrols on the other side of the river bank, while distant gun fire is heard echoing off somewhere within the city. Lieutenant Colonel Keating, is resting next to the younger man with a military laptop with two controls on it. The young reservist considers her a moment, observing the Lt Colonel from INSCOM. He notes that she appears to be typing something before moving her hands over the laptops controls, most likely to control the UAV in the sky, probable typing in the authorization code to hand control of the UAV from HQ to her Laptop. Jay returns his attention to the bridge and try's to spot something that could provide useful Intel.<p>

"Sergeant?"

"Mamm?"

"You said that this is where that anomaly was, correct?"

"Yes mamm." Sergeant Lambert points down to the remains of the bridge at the river. Little of the bridges structure was left. "Down in the middle of where the bridge was over there, though there's nothing left of it now."

Keating is staring intensely at the laptop's screen, her eye's moving from corner to corner at what the UAV is seeing. So far it's nothing out of the ordinary, which she finds less the pleasing. She hates to think that they are in the wrong place, or if in fact the anomaly is lost forever.

"There doesn't appear to be any physical deviations in the landscape. Are you sure we are in the correct sector?"

"I'm positive of that mamm." Lambert is curious though. He isn't sure if the, anomaly as its being called, will return again. Or if there are any signs that will indicate it will do so. "The only thing I'm not sure of is wither this thing is going to show up again."

Keating sighs. "I'd like an opportunity from one of us to go down there and scope out the area with our own two eyes, but with all that Russian presence just across the river it wouldn't be a safe recon. Problem is there's only so much detail a UAV can give you on things like this. Sometimes you need to see it in person." She seems to grow thoughtful and her words convey this. "But then at which point do we decide to risk ourselves to obtain our Intel, or play it safe and miss a piece of the big picture?"

"I wouldn't know mamm. It's not something I think about."

"So what do you think about Sergeant?"

Lambert thinks carefully before replying with his answer. "Right now I'm thinking about getting our boy's back home."

"You're not alone in that train of thought Sergeant Lambert. If we can figure all this out then we can do just that."

Lambert still isn't used to being in the Lieutenant Colonels Company. He still finds working with female personnel unnerving. Then again he always found girls as nigh un-approachable. The fact that a few of them were uniformed and carrying rifles made it much less easy. The Rangers and Reservists are settled in their cover, many of whom are on edge due to the nature of their mission. While Jay's muddles through his thoughts a dim glow from somewhere is noticed out of the corner of his eye. Now on alert, he turns to the direction of the glow to get a better look.

"Hey, did you see that?"

Keating swallows; her eye's fixated on the laptop screen where she can see from the UAV's perspective a light fill the location of the blown bridge. As soon as the light appears it quickly fades away. Keating nods slowly, now taking in what has just occurred.

"Y-yes I saw it." She turns to Lambert while pointing at the laptop. "From what I saw from the UAV it seemed to be about twenty feet across in size." She grows silent for a moment and her face scrunches up in thought. After a minute she nods as if finally deciding on a choice. "We will need to get a squad down there to get a closer look."

"Is that even safe?" The Sergeant asks questioningly.

"You're asking about the anomaly or the Russians?"

"Both."

"I have no idea on the anomaly, but for the Russians I can have a Sniper team on standby for you for cover."

Jay Lambert gives a resigned, heavy sigh, pocketing his binoculars and readying his rifle. "I guess a few of my guys and a few Rangers can go check it out. No clue what we will find but I guess we will find out for you."

"Much appreciated Sergeant. Be careful down there."

"Yes mamm."

* * *

><p>Ursula listened to her twin sister as Erica explained over the phone what had happened. She was disappointed to hear news that Krupke had attempted to carry out some plot to dismantle Joint Fighter Wings, but somehow she just couldn't find it too surprising. What she did find surprising was that Gertrud Barkhorn was being used to provide the Rangers and Task Force men a "hostage". Hearing of a Karlsland ace being used for such a means was difficult to digest. After Erica explained the reasoning behind this little tidbit Ursula could only shake her head. She decided it's best to ask questions later.<p>

"Do you know when they will arrive?"

"In a few minutes sis, so you might want to be ready for them."

" I'll prepare for their arrival, I just hope what I managed to develop would be able to help them, I'm still in the middle of finishing the second device."

The familiar sound of playful curiosity in her sister's voice is heard smoothly through the receiver. "So what sort of great new invention did you dream up to help those five boys sis?"

Ursula groans. "Now isn't a good time Erica, you know that. If you really want to know it will have to be later. At any rate-"

A voice calling out from outside Ursula's tent interrupts the Kalsland inventor's over the phone conversation. One of the land witches from the Tame Witches Reserve squadron rushes into the tent with look of distress printed on her face with a radio in hand.

"Miss Ursula! Miss Ursula, I'm sorry to interrupt but I've just gotten word from the Air Infantry witches! They have engaged a small squad of Neuroi, four large air types, one heavy land type. They are heading straight for us mamm!"

Ursula can't believe what she's hearing. Shocked she stammers to the Land witch. "W-what? Neuroi, coming this way already?"

"The Air Infantry are going to try and route them as best as they can, but it's best if we evacuate all non-combat personnel from the area immediately."

Ursula seems frozen, her mind struggling on a proper course of action. Erica is still on the phone, asking for her inventor sister and worriedly asking her what's wrong, and the Land witch attempts to elicit a course of action from the former combat witch. But Ursula's thoughts drown out the world around her. _The Neuroi have come already in such a short period of time. And they haven't been spotted by the scouts... could it be a stealthy infiltration? But what could they be coming here for? Unless..._ A sudden realization in her train of thought kicks the Karlsland inventor into overdrive.

"Erica! Sister, you must raise the alarm at the base right away!"

"Wait, what? Why do you want me to do that? What's going on sis?"

"You must hurry! We have Neuroi coming right for us at ground zero! They have infiltrated without alerting the scouts!"

"Y-you're serious? That's not good! Oh, but if I raise the alarm it may alert the base to Trude and the guys..."

Erica sounded conflicted, and Ursula realized the truth to what her twin sister had said. Realizing this she quickly devised a hybridised solution to her plan."Then use your comm to contact her and have Trude don her strikers, wait five minutes, then sound the alarm. That way they will have a bit of a head start and some distance away from any searches Krupke makes."

After a moment's pause, Erica responds to her sister's report, giggling in impressed amusement. "Brilliant, that's definitely something I would do. Alright sis... don't worry, help's on the way."

Turning to the Land Witch as she sets down the receiver, Ursula gives the member of the Reserve Witches an order. "I need you to get everyone in my team to safety, have them abandon their research stations but to leave all equipment on to monitor."

"What of you mamm?"

"I'm Chief Technician, I'm staying here to see this job through in their stead."

"But Flying Officer-"

Ursula proceeds to a trunk at the corner of her tent by the foot of her cot and opens it, producing an MP40. The Reserve Witch seems bewildered as Ursula gives a warm smile. "It's quite alright, just because I'm no longer on front lines doesn't mean I'm not prepared for a fight. It's been a while but I can still defend myself from a Neuroi."

* * *

><p>Of the many missions the Rangers have been through, this one ranked among the more stressful ones. Following the Lead of the Lieutenant while moving though a now hostile base definitely played a number on their nerves, even with their weapons and gear now in hand they knew they still had a long way to go with the situation clearly not in their favour. While they passed personnel within corridors, many of them had feared for Barkhorns life, and twice combat patrols ran into them and Ghost had to convince them both to stand down by threatening their "hostage". Suffice to say, it worked. Once the base personnel were persuaded, they were restrained with zap-straps the Rangers were carrying and left in someplace quiet. The Rangers had apologized to all parties as this happened, clearly they were reluctant in using Gertrud as a hostage. Ghost and Roach were much less apologetic.<p>

However after several minutes of making their way out of the building and finally onto the grounds while being lead by the young Karlslander, Gertrud is seen listening to someone over her comlink. The five men notice this and observe her carefully. After a moment, Gertrud gasps and comes to a complete stop, making the rest of the group halt.

"Are you sure Hartman?"Another moment passes; Gertrud mutters something and turns to the five men. "There's a problem, we have Neuroi enroute to Ground Zero. They managed to slip past the scouts and are tying up the Tame Witches."

Foley grimaced. "That doesn't sound good. Our window just got a hell of a lot smaller."

Dunn lets loose a rather harsh curse. "That's just terrific; more laser shooting mecha aliens from outer-space, just what I always wanted."

Gertrud continues speaking to the squad. "If you five plan to get back home in one piece I'll need my striker to do it. Find yourself a vehicle and I'll provide close air cover."

Ghost studies Gertrud carefully. "Are you sure? We can make it the rest of the way if we have to. Any further help at this point could get you in trouble with that Krupke bastard."

"Even if I do I can handle it. I made a promise and I intend to follow through on it. My honor as a soldier of Karlsland is on the line. Without my honor... I'm nothing. What sort of example would I be setting for Chris if I did otherwise?"

Ghost seemed to contemplate this before finally relenting. "Alright then Captain Barkhorn, seeing as you're going in for the long haul I guess there's little I can do to persuade you into reconsidering. We will find ourselves some vehicles while you get your strikers."

"Right." With that, Gertrud bolts across the tarmac towards the hanger, running past some personnel who are watching her in bewilderment. Ghost meanwhile motions the group towards the direction of the motor pool.

"Alright you lot, get you're assess in gear. It's about time we took our leave."

The Rangers nod. "Hooah."

Not wasting any more time, Ghost, Roach and the Rangers take off towards the motor pool. Upon reaching the motor pool they notice a few mechanics running maintenance on some of the vehicles. Once the five man squad relives them of their keys at gun point Ghost and Roach each take a motorcycle while the Rangers take one of the jeeps. They quickly get their respective vehicles started and start driving, blazing past the base entrance and down the road to their rally point. About four minutes later, the men hear the sound of an aircraft, and see Gertrud approaching from behind them. Upon catching up with the group she cruises up to Ghost on his commandeered motorcycle.

"Sorry I kept you waiting Lieutenant."

Ghost laughs. "Not at all Barkhorn, you're right on time. However, the question now would be what do you suppose those Neuroi are planning?"

"Their exact motives I'm not too sure on, but in all likelihood the Neuroi are going to try and get to ground zero for whatever reason, so I'll keep them off of you if they decide to cause any trouble."

"It's much appreciated Captain. I just hope this Ursula girl has a way for us to get home."

"Don't worry Lieutenant. Ursula is as talented as Erica but a hell of a lot more motivated. She invented the jet striker in a short period of time, so whatever means she has of getting you all home would only take half that time."

Off in the distance some couple miles away the group can hear the sound of the base alarm suddenly droning. By now however they were currently in the clear. After turning back around facing in the direction of their objective, Dunn glances over to Gertrud after a moment of silence.

"So... Jet strikers huh?"

Gertrud nods. "Amazing isn't it? Erica's sister is a genius. Flying with them was like... being pushed by angels!"

"Really? If they're that good why aren't you wearing them now?"

Gertrud shuddered a little at the Corporal's question. "That's... a long story..."

* * *

><p>Sergeant Jay Lambert and the squad advanced slowly and silently, the ten man team of Reservists and Rangers being sure to advance in as cautious a manner as possible, the whole while observing the dull glow of the anomaly. The young Reservist wasn't about to fail this mission if he could help it. Silently, he gives a hand signal for the squad to halt and take a knee. He gestures for the squad to cover him while he moves in to get a better look. They do so, all silently nodding affirmative.<p>

With a ten man squad watching him along with two snipers laying silently in some unseen vantage point, Jay slinks forward. He's almost within fifteen feet of the objective when he notices the dull blue glow somewhat brighter than before, flickering like a light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Noticing this, the men exchange silent nervous glances, unsure of what's happening. Lambert ponders for a moment, wondering just what he will have to expect. Abruptly, the pentagram flickering quickens for a moment and disappears.

When this happens Jay can sense a change of some sort in the immediate area. He couldn't really explain just what happened, but if it had to be described, he would have to believe it felt akin to a sudden change in barometric pressure, or like the warm air in a room rushing into an adjacent room and being replaced with cold air. However hard he tried to equate in his mind what had just happened at this moment, something deep inside in his mind and his heart he realized that whatever it was that was here, and was happening, is now gone. With great hesitation, his hand slowly finds its way to his comm.

"Mamm... it's Sergeant Lambert...I think the anomaly's gone mamm."

A moments silence. "Say again Sergeant?"

Jay gives a shaky sigh. "I say again, the anomaly is gone... it's just... not here anymore."

* * *

><p>Once all the lab technicians had been evacuated, the only ones left at ground zero were Ursula and two land witches. The Kalsland inventor was working feverishly on one of the terminals, monitoring and recoding the readings that were displayed on the monitor. Energy levels were growing steadily. There was little doubt in Ursula's mind that ground zero was going to bear witness to another event similar to what brought the five men from the other world into this reality. While she was hard at work, the two land witches stood guard for any potential Neuroi Infiltration. Ursula had to give credit to these two witches of the Tame Witches Reserve squadron, they may have been new to fighting on the front line, they were well motivated to do what is needed. While taking another reading on the terminal, she presently heard the drone of a Studibaker cargo truck, two Harley-Davidson 42WLA motorcycles and an ME-109 Striker Unit.<p>

_It seems they are finally here._

Once they made their arrival, Ghost and Roach dismounted the two motorcycles and approached Ursula while the three Rangers waited in the truck they had driven up in. Gertrud approached and saluted the inventor witch respectfully.

"Flying Officer, it's good to see you again."

Ursula smiled and returned the salute. "Captain Barkhorn it's been a while. My sister has been keeping me informed on what's been happening."

"I wish we could have a chance to catch up, but unfortunately we don't have that luxury. Have you thought up a solution for these men by any chance?"

Ursula produces the small, pocket watch sized device from one of her pockets and holds it towards Gertrud. The Karlsland Captain and the two Task Force operators regard the small device carefully. To the men it appears at first glance as a rather large, ornate pocket watch of sorts.

Roach gives a questioning look. "So...what is it exactly?"

"This device contains a miniaturized version of the striker units magic engine, coupled with components custom designed to regulate magic energy from a surrounding area, focus it and stabilize the energy in question into a functional, stable bridge between our reality and yours in any designated location that is imputed into the display that possesses a strong, stable energy signature."

Ghost slowly takes the device from Ursula and turns it over in his grasp. He notes the well polished silver casing and pentagram rune etched on the cover. Opening the protective cover, he noted a strange set of dials in the center of the device and knobs on the side. "Dose this thing have a name?"

"It's a Mana-Anomaly-Precession-"Pace-Setter"-Device, or "MAPPD" for short."

Ghost laughs and shakes his head. "Bit of a tongue twister mamm. I'd have gone with TARDIS myself, but whatever you call it; if it'll get us back home, I'll take it."

Sergeant Foley steps out of the truck and walks over to the group, leaving Dunn and Ramirez in the truck. Upon reaching the gaggle, he studies the device in Ghost's possession, taking a moment to inspect it carefully.

"So that little thing is supposed to take us home I'm guessing?"

Ursula nods. "Yes, that's its intended function."

"Now for the million dollar question: how does it work and how will it get us home?"

"The MAPPD reads manna in any two given inputted co-ordinates and calculates the factors required for safe travel between reality's to form and maintain a stable inter dimensional wormhole relative to one another. Upon entering coordinate locations it processes data by reading the energy both locations posses before activating the miniaturized magic engine to draw the energy in to build and maintain the wormhole. You will need to input the target co-ordinates of both your current location and the target location then have the device confirm so it can find an ideal window of opportunity for a jump either directly at your target destination or close to it providing both your current location and the target location falls into required parameters."

Foley scoffs. "That's a lot of techno-babble. Is this all based on some sort of scientific formula that I'm not aware of?"

Ursula seems to shrink a little bit at the Sergeant's question. "It's... more of a theory really. A hypothesis. We haven't really explored scientifically any avenues into inter dimensional study or experimenting for obvious reasons. "

Everyone in the huddle save for Ursula is ether frowning or otherwise wearing an apprehensive face. Basically this device was an untested prototype designed using logic, theories and formula that currently have been untested up until this point. No prior experiments, no lengthily analysis, and now it seems that they were about to dive head first into an uncontrolled field test in less than ideal conditions with Neuroi forces inbound looking to blast everyone at ground zero into atoms. Nuts didn't even begin to describe the situation.

From the truck Dunn leans over Ramirez in the passenger side and out the window. "Everyone's pretty quiet over their Sarge, is everything alright or what?"

Before anyone can reply one of the monitoring devices starts to beep loudly. Ursula darts over to the machine in question, her hands moving over the keypad a moment to ascertain what has happened. A rueful look crosses her face and she groans audibly.

"This machine is responsible for monitoring the mana in particular locations. One of the locations in your world has flat-lined, the MAPPD will not be able to take you their if you tried to input its latitude and longitude, not until parameters have been met to initiate a wormhole to that location."

Everyone huddles close over Ursula's shoulder and reads the monitors screen. After reading through the data, they notice the location data. Foley curses when he notices the latitude and longitude.

"That's around the DC area. That's where my boys and I were before all this happened."

Ghost shifts his gaze over to the Acting Commander of Hunter-21. "Looks like the only other place we know of that we can go to is the Caucus Mountains. It'll have to do for now."

Foley shakes his head. "Yeah, but my men and I have to get back to the States and fast. I'll need to inform my superiors of what you told us about Shepherd."

Ghost studies the Sergeant a moment with suspicion. He wants to know just what Foley is planning to do. "Why's that mate? You think I'm telling the truth or something? Or..." he trails off and lets the potential question hang.

Foley sighs. "I don't know really if what you and Roach said is true or not, but it's getting me to thinking that there may be more going on than I'm seeing so I may as well let someone higher up know something about what happened to the Prima donna Squad. It might lead somewhere, it might not, but who knows unless I try."

Despite some of Ghost's reservations, the Sergeants answer would have to do for now. "Not sure what good it will do, but right now we should concentrate on getting back."

From off in the truck, Dunn calls over again to the gaggle to get the groups attention, his voice raising an octave out of annoyance, clearly not impressed with being left out of whatever happenings is going on.

"Sarge, would you mind telling me just what your all talking about over their? ! If it's bad news I'd rather be informed BEFORE marching blindly into trouble."

Before the group can respond, one of the Reserve Land witches starts to panic. "Miss Ursula! Our squad just radioed in! The rest of the Tame Witches have failed to destroy two of the Neuroi! They are still both enrroute to our location!"

Ghost turns to the land witch in question. "When will they be here?"

"NOW!"

Thiers is a deathly silence that lasts for a solid five seconds, everyone staring at the land witch in stunned disbelief at hearing this. Once those five seconds come and go there is a flat, collective response by everyone at ground zero.

"What."

As if on cue a fast moving, ominous black and red silhouette in the sky barrels from the east and strafes the group with laser fire. Everyone lets loose more curses then Gertrud would admit to count. The air based Neuroi, which appeared to be a large wedge/delta wing shape was turning for another pass. Everyone was scattering for cover, though there was little safety to be had from hiding in tents. Foley was making a mad dash for the jeep that Dunn and Ramirez we still in. Dunn meanwhile is pointing south East at a ground based Neuroi that is crawling pretty fast over a rolling hill.

"SEAN! IT'S ONE OF THOSE WALKER ALIENS!"

"DUNN! GET THAT JEEP STARTED, IF THAT THINGS INBOUND FOR US THE WE ARE GOING TO KILL THE DAMN THING! MOVE YOUR ASS!"

Foley hops into the cab as Dunn lets loose another set of foul language as he gets the jeep's engine running and punches the gas. The jeep lurches forward with the Rangers in tow. Foley radios to Ghost on his comm.

"Ghost, this is Foley! Be advised, my boys and I are going to intercept the Neuroi walker."

"What about you three lads?"

"We'll be fine, we can catch up with ya, you just worry about get the coordinates set, Hooah?"

"Understood, just don't get yourselves killed, Sergeant Foley."

"Don't worry Lieutenant; we don't plan on dying anytime soon."

* * *

><p>Dunn swears again as he shifts gears. "Sarge, did you just tell Ghost that we're going to take that walker head on? No offence, but are you nuts? !"<p>

Foley shoots his trade mark glare at Dunn. "Ghost and Roach will need time to get the coordinates entered into that device, so we are going to buy them the time they need to do so. If you don't like it then you can hop out and bail if it gets too rough for you, because complaining about it won't solve our problem, but even then you'll have to try and out run that thing on foot."

"Hey, I'm just saying alright. Getting vaporized by aliens with a laser fetish isn't on my list of things to do today."

Ramirez groans. "Tell me about it, Neuroi are a pain in the ass. I say, the sooner we get home, the better. Fuck this world and its alien and magic bullshit." But then Ramirez tilts his head thoughtfully and looks down at his M4A1, before finally turning to the Sergeant. "So what's the plan Sarge?"

Foley notices the two land witches overtaking their truck and engaging the Neuroi. He points over to them and barks an order.

"Provide those two with some back up, match their speed and stay with them. Ramirez, get that AT4 Ready and prepare to launch it on my signal!"

"Hooah Sarge, you order, I deliver."

Dunn shakes his head and grits his teeth. "Aw hell with it, I feel like kicking someones ass right now. I guess that oversized piece of alien scrap will have to do."

Foley sports a wild grin. "Now that's what I want to hear."

* * *

><p>Ghost dodges the laser fire from the Neuroi in the air, running up to Roach who was at the time hiding behind some crates while the Neuroi flying in the sky passes overhead. Roach was noticeably trembling, his eyes unfocused. But Ghost knew it was about time they high tailed it home, they have overstayed their welcome in this freaky universe.<p>

"On your feet mate, its high time we got out of here, let's get moving."

"Aw man Ghost, are we gonna die here? I don't want to fucking die here! It would a damn shitty way to go, and if I do go I'd want at least something left to bury!"

"We won't, just stay on my ass; we can get back home, link back up with the 141 and kill those two bastards that made a mess of things. Come on!"

With that Ghost drags Roach along by his web gear, the two men struggling to avoid getting hit by possible laser fire. Ghost looks skywards and sees Gertrud trying to intercept the Neuroi in the air, but the alien seems to be more than a match for her. She is struggling to even try and catch up with this particular monstrosity. Ghost releases his hold on Roach and quickly digs out a pair of maps from his breast pocket. Upon getting directly into ground he rapidly unfolds them and starts manipulating the MAPPED. He still is unsure of the controls, so it's taking him time to figure out just how to use the damn thing. A small dial in the center houses a small screen of some sort, projecting a large sized hologram about the size of an IPhone's screen containing an assortment of displays, which he hastily tries to manipulate.

Roach curses. "Have you gotten that thing figured out yet Lieutenant?" he asks, sounding terrified.

"Trying to concentrate here Roach, just keep your eyes on any of those two Neuroi."

"Please sir, I don't want to wind up dying like this! Not like this for fuck sake!"

Ghost shoots a glare at Roach, grabbing the younger mans tactical jacket in one hand and shaking him. "Christ sake Roach keep it together! I can't have my Sergeant falling apart on me now so stay calm!"

Roaches eyes were wide and locked at the ground, his body shaking and his mouth agape. It was then Ghost noticed that the younger operator was in a cold sweat and realized that all the signs pointed to one thing. Roach was in the early stages of PTSD. Ghost gave the younger man a light shake, but his tone now changed to concern.

"Roach, are you still with me mate?"

Roaches expression held for about a second and a half until he blinked hard and shook his head. "God damnit...I can...see them sir..."

"You mean Scarecrow and Ozone?"

"Y-yeah...I...god...I think I'm losing it."

Ghost frowned and shook his head. Roach would need a lot of help fighting this. PTSD is a very serious condition, and if Roach was going to get back into shape again mentally, he will need all the support he could possibly get. Roach was having his staring contest into the abyss, seeing images replaying in his head of his fallen battle brothers. At this point the Lieutenant of Task Force 141decided to shoulder this responsibility: once he got them both home, he was going to help get Roach's mind right and help him work through whatever baggage he was currently carrying.

"I know what it's like; once we're out of here I'll have your back mate. I'll help you work through it, but right now I need you to concentrate on the here and now, you understand?"

Roach looks at the Lieutenant dead in the eye and slowly nods. "O-okay...here and now. Right here and now."

Ghost returns to trying to input the coordinates on both maps into the device. Once finished, the small device brought up some sort of holographic calculations, numbers blazing across a readout in about five rows before setting on a particular set of digits confirmed to be their current location and the target location, including some sort of data calculations that Ghost didn't really bother reading. But then a display that seems akin to a Timer pops up on the side of the hologram, counting down in minutes, seconds and nanoseconds.

_The hell?_ Ghost was baffled. He wasn't sure just what this thing was supposed to be counting down for. But apparently, whatever it was for, they had three minutes left. Ghost gets on the comm.

"Hey, Ursula, I've inputted the coordinates but there's a timer counting down of the device. You mind explaining that to me?"

Ursula responds over the radio channel. "It's a safety feature. It is counting down to the moment where a window of opportunity will arise for you to initiate the wormhole. It only occurs if magic energy is not fully built up or-" Ursula suddenly trails off a moment. This worries Ghost.

"Or what? Ursula, are you still their?"

"Stand by, I have to get to my instruments."

Ghost curses. Why does he have the gnawing feeling that something else is about to go incredibly wrong?

After a second. Ursula returns. "D-dman, the energy is fluctuating at your location. It seems like the energy the MAPPD has read and calculated is about ready to flat-line like the other location."

"You mean we only get one shot at this or we lose our window of opportunity?"

"Correct, you'll have to be ready, stay directly inside your disembarkment point or you won't get transported home! I don't know if and when energy flow to this place will return again or if another location will meet the parameters required."

"Roger that. We will hold here, but we may need some cover."

Another voice quips over the comm channel, sounding determined. "Don't worry Ghost, I'll give you cover."

* * *

><p>After transmitting her message to Ghost, Gretrud jinks hard left to try and overtake her Neuroi target. Once she finally gets in range she rakes her enemy with automatic gunfire from her MG42's. But this Neuroi is wearing her down. It seems to be very smart. Too smart. She assumes that it must be an Ace of some sort, seeing as it has been fighting evasively with such skill, even putting Barkhorn on the defensive a few times. Now is the only time she has seen an opening to exploit, and if she dosn't take it, she may not come out of this unscathed. Once in an advantageous position, she starts strafing the alien beast with as much gunfire as she can muster, the barrels of her Karlsland machineguns glowing red hot and smoking. About seven laser beams smack into her shield consecutively, but she dosn't relent. She can't let this monster breath, not for one second. She has to kill it, and quickly.<p>

_A fellow ace... I hate to admit it, but this one is skilled. And stubborn._

Rounds continued to strike her target, slowly chewing through the Ace Neuroi's hide. Suddenly, both of Barkhorns weapons click empty. Her rounds have been spent. "Damn it."

The Neuroi roars angrily, and suddenly jinks into Gertruds direction, firing a volley of lasers as it attempts to ram the Karlsland witch. Captain Barkhorn upends her MG42's and focuses her magic energy into them, preparing to bludgeon the Neuroi once it gets close. Lasers continue to impact her shield, but she shifts her pitch forward, gaining momentum as she prepares to strike.

"COME ON YOU BASTAAAAAAAARD~!"

Once in range, Gertrud clubs the Neuroi with both her weapons. Breaking the aliens honeycomb shell and bouncing off the Neuroi's body. She finally sees that the core is exposed. Quickly she tries to reload her weapons, but the impact with the Neuroi has fatigued her. Though fortunately, the Neuroi seems to also be similarly winded, the giant beast is listing lazily to the left a bit.

Finally replacing her last saddlemags into her MG42's, Gertrud tries to regain altitude and strafes the Neuroi Ace. The machineguns roar once again to life, the distinct sound similar to that of a large canvas being torn quickly in two. Automatic gunfire traipse their way up and down the creatures body as Gertrud tries to hit the core, her weakened arms shaking enough to foul her aim. But at last after a solid fifteen seconds of spraying and praying, twenty rounds from her weapons find the Neuroi's gem heart, destroying it. The Neuroi makes a vengeful death rattle as it explodes brilliantly in a rain of glowing white shards.

Gretrud smiles as she slowly glides lazily to the ground. She had gained another victory. "Good fight, Herr Ace."

* * *

><p>As the two land witches continue to harass the Neuroi tank, the Rangers are jockeying for position. Dunn cuts the wheel as a beam from the Neuroi grazes the truck. All three Rangers are cursing from the close shave but press on undeterred. Ramirez preps the AT4's sights, disengages the safety an finishes readying the anti-armour weapon.<p>

Having crawled into the back seat, Ramirez grins and gives a thumbs up with his free hand. "AT4 is set and ready to fire Sarge, just tell me when!"

"Alright, once we get close enough, you find an opportunity and fire at will, is that clear?"

"You got it boss."

Foley turns to his right hand man. "Dunn, can you give this truck some more gas."

"Oh yeah, I'm feeling the need for speed now. Lets hit that bastard!"

Ramirez shouts a battle cry. "Yeah! Get some bitch!"

Dunn's foot presses down on the accelerator and the truck starts gaining on the Neuroi. Coming along side it, Ramirez aims the launcher tube at the Neuroi's flank. He's lined up a perfect shot.

"I've got em in sight guys!"

"Weapons free Ramirez! Stick a rocket up that damn things ass!"

"Hell yea-" Ramirez stops for a moment upon remembering something. "Uhhh...wait a sec..."

Dunn curses loudly. "What the hell's the god damned problem dude? Just fire and kill this thing already!"

"Neuroi have a core someplace that you gotta destroy in order to kill them, right?"

Dunn and Foley glance at each other before returning their gaze to the Private. "Yeah?"

"So... where's it's fucking core?"

Dunn strikes the steering wheel while Foley shakes his head in disbelief.

"FUCK! I forgot!" Dunn spits loudly.

"Damn, looks like we will just have to guess. Trust your gut Private."

Ramirez lowers the AT4 slightly and tries to study the Neuroi, which is difficult trying to do while traveling at 36 kilometres an hour on one knee while carrying a "hot" launcher tube.

"Let's see... it's a tank, right? And tanks have their engines in the back, so maybe Neuroi tanks have their cores in the rear too."

"Sounds like it's possible, but what if that hypothesis is incorrect Private?" Foley asks.

"Well it's all I've got really, what ideas do you two have?"

Before his senior squad members could reply, Neuroi bleats and starts drawing in on the truck quickly.

Foley yells. "No time! He's on to us!"

"Crap, crap, crap! Fire!" Dunn screams.

Ramirez braces himself. "Oh boy-" Ramirez levels the Launcher and depresses the firing mechanism. The only sound made is a barely audible "click". Things move in slow motion and the Privates eyes dart to the launcher in his hands. He can't believe his luck. "SHIT! JAM!"

The Neuroi blindsides the truck, knocking it on its side and sending the three Rangers flying. The truck slides before striking a lifted patch of ground and tumbling uncontrollably. Foley, Ramirez and Dunn fair no better, tumbling head over heels before coming to rest. Foley is laying face up, sprawled out on the ground and drifting in and out of consciousness. Dunn is at rest on his side and dazed. Ramirez had come to rest laying face down, and after a moment of being still, he slowly lifts his battered body, dragging himself on all fours to where the AT4 had come to rest. Slowly he picks it up and looks it over, his vision is slightly blurred as he is left trying to figure out what is wrong with the launcher.

Turning to the Neuroi tank just ahead, he sees the two land witches taking pot shots at it with their cannons. The Neuroi is buffeted, but returns fire with a large shot that reaches from witch to witch. He sees the oldest of the girls get her arm and cannon vaporized by the beam, while the other girls strikers lower legs disappear. The two girls are now at the mercy of the Neuroi as it stands imposingly over them, preparing a finishing blow. Ramirez shakily gets to his feet and advances, favoring his left side. Angrily he barks at the alien before it can kill the two young girls.

"HEY YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU LEAVE THOSE GIRLS ALONE! YOU WANNA KILL SOMEONE, TRY KILLING ME!"

Foley and Dunn must have regained their senses, because he could hear them yelling behind him, with Foley shouting at the Private to get down, while Dunn was screaming that he was nuts.

The Neuroi turns to Ramirez as he readies the AT4. It advances past the girls and towards the Private of Hunter-21. It bellows loudly as its speed starts to increase. Ramirez depresses the firing mechanism. Nothing. He checks the AT4 and try's to clear any jams. He tries depressing the firing mechanism. Again, nothing but a click.

"Damnit, don't do this to me." Normally the SOP for an AT4 that wont fire after three firing attempts is to break off the sights of the weapon and set it on the ground facing in the direction of the enemy. But it was the only weapon that Ramirez could hope to kill this damn monster barreling down on him. He doesn't know if water getting in the tube from falling in the ocean might have damaged it or if it was defective to begin with, but if it didn't want to work, he was going to force it to work.

He checks it for damage and obstruction, cocks it to clear the jam and fires. Nothing. All the while the Neuroi draws closer.

"Come on."

Checks again. Cocks again. Fires. Nothing.

"Come on!"

Rinse, lather, repeat, still no dice.

"COME ON!"

Seventh try repeating the cycle. And again, nothing but that accursed clicking. Ramirez screams at the top of his lungs, his frustration at an all time high. He begged and cursed, and pleaded that this infuriating anti-tank weapon would just do what he wanted and fire.

"COME ON GOD DAMN IT JUST LET ME KILL THIS THING! PLEASE GOD, JUST LET ME KILL THIS FUCKING THING!"

He levels the AT4 one last time as the Neruoi charges an attack. It was all or nothing. His mind was racing though a thousand thoughts, images and memories at once. His family, his friends, his unit, his country, his world, his life. Everything he had ever loved and cherished. It was all going to disappear. He had been through his before, back in DC. And when it did happen, he was afraid. But this time... he was mad. Hell, he was furious. Bad enough he had to worry about dieing back home, but here, in some weird universe in some other reality with aliens and magical girls, forced to fight in a war that wasn't his. That somehow just pissed him off. Or could it be... that this world needed to enlist children to fight monsters? Probably could have been both. If he had to fight and possibly die in a war, he wanted it to be the war back home. Not here. One war is hard enough. He couldn't take fighting two.

"WORK FOR GOD SAKE! FIRE!" The Private roared again, willing that damned weapon on his shoulder, ordering it to comply. "FIRE!"

Upon depressing the trigger, Ramirez heard and felt the most wonderful thing in his entire life. The sound of the Rocket leaving the launching tube, the rocket motor roaring to life. The recoil and heat and the smell of smoke was wonderful and euphoric. The rocket shot forward in just under two seconds and slammed into the Neuroi tanks front, dead center, exploding halfway into the mechanical beast. It must have hit the core, for immediately after wards it exploded in a bright white shower of shrapnel.

Ramirez just gazed wide eye's at the shining, glowing pieces of the Neuroi, breathing heavily. He sunk to his knees and had the AT4 at rest in one hand, the other arm hanging limply. After a while, he started laughing in relief. He then whooped and cheered, pumping his free hand in the air.

"YES! HOOAH! TANGO DOWN! TANGO DOWN! RANGER'S LEAD THE WAY!"

Still laughing, he turns around to Dunn and Foley who are slowly picking themselves up off the ground, just as surprised as the younger Ranger that lady luck had pulled a Hail-Mary pass. Ramirez pointed in the direction of the dead Neuroi.

"Did you guys fucking see that? I got em! I fucking got him!"

Dunn stairs at the younger man before turning to Sergeant Foley. "Holy shit, I think the Force is storing with this one." He laughs weakly.

Foley shakes his head and smiles. "That's just another day for a bad-ass in the making. THAT is how a Ranger fights."

Dunn's smile disappears once his eyes fall upon the wounded witches. "Crap, those girls look messed up."

Ramirez gets back on his feet, drops the AT4 and unslings his M4A1. "Let me guess: we go give them a helping hand."

Foley nods and takes the lead, double timing towards the girls. "Now you're getting it Private."

* * *

><p>With the battle over, Ghost and Roach are concentrating on the trip back home. Knowing that they are going to be returning to the Caucasus Mountains, they would have to expect either Ultranationalists, Shadow Company or both at their inbound location. Quickly both men do a gear check of their weapons and ammo. They have little in the way of equipment. Only half a mag left in Ghost's ACR and one hundred rounds in Roaches box mag, one frag grenade, three flash-bangs, their sidearm's and a combat knife for each of them. Ghost reasons that if they plan on getting very far, they will need to raid Makarovs safe house, providing Shepherd's Shadow Company didn't torch everything.<p>

Any further planning was dropped when Gertrud glided gently down from the sky and landed a few feet away. Both men cursing, Ghost and Roach make their way to her.

"Barkhorn, Captain are you alright?" Ghost asks.

Gertrud lifts herself up off the ground a little and looks up to the Lieutenant, smirking. "I think so. No injuries or crashes this time."

"That's a relief. Hate to see a tough girl like you bite it." Roach sighs.

"That would be a problem. We can't have that."

Ghost smiles. "Charming as always, luv."

A sudden yell over the comm from Ursula causes the trio to flinch. "Captain! Get out of their! The MAPPED's Transportation sequence is going to initialize!"

Gretrud was confused by what Ursula meant by that, but judging from her tone, it didn't sound good. She tried to move but found that her arms and legs were tired from the heavy fighting. Ghost saw Gertrud struggling, glanced at his watch and was nearly struck breathless. Ten seconds left. Quickly he tried to help Gertrud up but her heavy strikers made things difficult. Roach tried to help but was also struggling. The rune they were currently standing on was steadily glowing brighter.

"W-what's happening?" Gertrud asked in a worried tone.

"Bloody hell, it looks like we're going to be in for a bumpy ride!" Ghost replied.

Panic soon crossed Barkhorns face."What! No! I can't go! I cannot abandon my wing!"

Roach curses and tried to drag Barkhorn out of the circle. "Lieutenant, we've got to get her out of here."

Ghost reluctantly looked at the time piece on the MAPPD. They were out of time.

"No good, we're out of time. Hold on!" As Ghost spoke the Rune glowed into an intense pillar of light. Ghost could feel that familiar tingly feeling as it started from the top of his head, down his spine and straight to the soles of his feet, his visage filled with bright white glowing light that was enveloping the three of them. But unlike before, now he could hear Barkhorn's voice. The young witch kept screaming "No" over and over again, until the light and a ringing sound drowned it out.

* * *

><p>Everyone watched as the pillar of light glowed intensity then flickered and unceremoniously vanished along with Ghost, Roach and Gertrud. Ursula stood in front of her console, unable to accept that Captain Barkhorn was now gone, thrust forward into a reality that was alien. A world with no Neuroi or witches and where humanity fought itself.<p>

_Oh no... Captain... _A sudden wash of frustration over took the Karlsland inventor, in her bitter anger she struck the console with her fist, making a dent on the machine. _This is a fine mess isn't it? What am I supposed to do?_

The only thing that came to mind was the second, unfinished MAPPD prototype. Remembering the Rangers that were still here in her reality, Ursula took off in a dead run to find them.

* * *

><p>The Ranger's, who had just finished tending to the two Tank Witches, saw the events that had transpired. Their hearts sank and their hope of returning home, dashed. All that running, fighting and hard work had amounted to nothing. The Rangers were demoralized.<p>

"Well their goes our ride. Isn't that just our fucking luck." Dunn comments bitterly.

"Dude, I think I saw that Barkhorn girl in there with those two...damn, she's going to go through what we're going through right now. Man, that sucks."

Foley sighs. He has to try and give his men hope, even if at the moment he's feeling as shitty as they are. "Looks like a minor setback people, but we can figure out how to work this out if we just try and stay focused."

Dunn looked about ready to pack it in and give up. "How? How are we supposed to make this one work Sean?"

Ursula quickly trots up to the Rangers with an MP40 in hand. She pants heavily and bows to the three Rangers.

"I'm sorry, forgive me. I failed to fulfill my promise to you all."

Foley waved his hand dismissively. It's not her fault that the three of them are in this predicament. "Please mamm, there's no need for that. My boys and I will need to think of a new solution."

"Providing we can before that Krupke asshole can catch up to us." Dunn mutters.

"Which, I'm afraid, isn't going to happen." Ursula and the Rangers turn in the direction of the voice, taken by surprise at the intruders voice. The Rangers recognize that smug, cocky voice and the douchbag it belonged to. They visibly tense up and collectively grit their teeth. Krupke's face is straight and cold, with both his Kalrsland soldiers and fifteen men from the base, all heavily armed. "Now then, seeing as you three are left, perhaps we can try this again?"

Foley glares daggers at the Karlsland General, Ramirez growls in frustration and Dunn speaks aloud what they are all thinking.

"You've GOT to be fucking kidding me!"

* * *

><p><strong>I'd like to take the opportunity to thank everyone for being so patient and to apologize for taking so long. I'm in a transition trying to start up a web show, but I still have plans for this crossover. The Chapter took more time then I planed but I'm not one to leave something unfinished. <strong>

**Next Chapter we will see just how Gertrud will react and adjust to the Modern Warfare World and just what will the fate be for the Rangers.**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

What Gertrud felt would most likely be akin to standing in the room of a house that is filled with the sun with your entire body tingly and somehow not fully tangible, with someone leaving a kettle whistling on the stove, when the next thing you know the house was suddenly picked up and thrown by some unseen force.

Because the next thing she knows she is violently ejected from the light and the ringing noise and sent into a slow tumble into the air. She hits the ground, bouncing twice before coming to rest, the sounds of Ghost and Roach yelling profanities and hitting the ground beside her. She groaned aloud, dazed and confused. Then she remembers what had just happened. Shooting up to her hands and knees she looks to where she was ejected and sees the Rune flicker and just disappear. It was gone.

"No...no..."

She punches the ground angrily. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. She could not believe that everything has turned out like this.

"NO!"

Ghost picks himself up and tries to help Gertrud up, taking hold of her arm. "Are you alright luv?"

Gertrud wretches her arm free of his grasp. "LET GO OF ME!" Her head swimming and her rage flying out of control she tries to fly off, get as much distance as she can get from the Lieutenant. The ME-109 Striker Unit's sputtered and coughs, struggling to get airborne. The glows of the magically formed propellers are barley even visible or formed. She hardly even gets three feet off the ground before the magic engines cut out and she falls back to the ground, flat on her face. She slowly picks herself up, wearing a shocked, blank look.

"W-what?" She tries to start them again but now the Strikers backfire before finally staying silent. Looking down at her strikers, she can see the pocket dimension her legs were held in is so weak that she can see where she and the machine meet. She couldn't fly. Then she could feel it. She couldn't sense any magic...something was different about this world.

"B-but...why? Why can't I fly? What's going on?" Pulling off her strikers she scrambles to Ghost and grabs his jacket. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS PLACE? WHERE AM I? WHY THE HELL CAN'T I FLY?"

"Captain, calm down..." Ghost's voice was incredibly calm. Gertrud was furious. How could he be so damn calm at a time like this? Didn't he understand just how grave her situation was? Roach picked himself up and dusted himself off just in time to watch as Gertrud flipped her gourd.

"BASTARD!" Gertrud takes a swing at Ghost that connects squarely with his jaw. Ghost seems about ready to counter attack but he stops when he sees Gertrud freeze and stare at her fist. There was supposed to be a glow, there was always a glow. And her familiars ears and tail would form whenever she used her magic. A magically augmented punch should have sent the Lieutenant flying like a rag doll.

"M-m-my magic..." Then the realization of the situation fully hit her. Her magic was gone. And she was trapped in this strange world. The situation becomes overwhelming as she breaks down and starts crying, screaming and cursing.

Roach's head is swung around in every direction in terror. A hell of a time for the girl to be having an emotional breakdown in the middle of possibly hostile territory, the noise she was making could awaken the dead. Or at least alert every hostile in the entire region. He tries consoling her, but Gertrud is in a poor state. Roach curses the fact he didn't know how to deal with a crying girl.

Ghost tries to calm the young Captain down. "Barkhorn, stay calm and take a few deep breaths, alright? Just calm down, calm down."

Gertrud attempts sharp, gasping breaths, her voice cracking. "My magic is gone... I can't fly anymore. What good am I like this? How can I possibly serve as an ace of my homeland if I'm without my magic? I'm a witch! What good is a witch without magic? How can I serve with my wing if...?"

Once thoughts of her Comrades come to her, Gertrud finally breaks down, her knees buckling. "Oh god... this can't happen! My wing needs me to be there for them! I can't be stuck here! How am I supposed to get home? How can I serve with them without my magic?" Then thoughts of Chris drift to her mind. Gertrud's heart is filled with hopelessness and desperation. She is soon in hysterics. "CHRIS! OH GOD! CHRIS! I CAN'T LEAVE CHRIS! I CAN'T JUST LEAVE HER THEIR, SHE NEEDS ME! I'M ALL SHE HAS LEFT! CHRIS! CHRIS!" Gertrud grips her hands in her head, the pounding sensation she's feeling is unbearable as she screams her little sisters name. She's getting dizzy, having been crying and yelling so much.

Taking a knee, Ghost takes a hold of the young witch and tries to get her under control. "Barkhorn." No response, so he tries again, raising his voice so she can hear him. "Gertrud!" He tries again. "TRUDY!"

At her nickname being yelled, Gertrud grows quiet and slowly looks up to the Lieutenant of the Task Force, her eyes drowned in tears that slowly roll down her face. Ghost takes a breath and speaks with more earnestness he has ever used in his life since joining the 141, looking her square in the eye.

"Gertrud, I know what you're going through right now and how scared you are. I understand that. I promise you, somehow, someway, I'll get you back home. You can hold me to that alright? Do you believe me?"

With a blank face Gertrud stairs silently, unmoving, at the Lieutenant before slowly nodding in response. Having gotten Gertrud calmed down, Ghost continues.

"Now listen closely. Right now Roach and I will need to meet up with the rest of our Task Force. And right now we could still be in enemy territory".

Gertrud's eyes widen and start scanning the open field and tree line. She realizes now she could have doomed them, revealing their position to dangerous men. She's frightened again, and now she is angry with herself. She was disgusted with herself for her lack of discipline, believing she had dishonoured the name "Karlslander" with her outburst. For all she knew the enemy would be upon them in the hundreds and would kill them where they stood.

But Ghost sees this and assuages her fears. "Hey, hey now. Focus on me for a sec." She complies worriedly. "Roach and I have been here before. There should be a safe house up that hill over their..." Ghost gestures with his head over to the heavily cratered hillside and tree line. "We will have to make our way there and stock up on weapons and ammo if we plan on getting very far. We do so quietly. I'll need you to follow our every move. Don't get separated. If something happens, just follow our instructions. Can you do that?"

"Y-yes." She replies weakly, wiping back tears while trying to regain composure.

Ghost nods. "Alright then...no worries now: stay calm and just do what's needed." Ghost reaches for one of his two Glocks and hands it to the young Captain. "Right now you can borrow this Glock. It's probably smaller then what you're used to, but it should do the job well enough."

Gertrud looked at the small side arm that Ghost had called a "Glock". It seemed to be a short, black and tan pistol with an unusually long magazine. The name sounded like it could have originated from Ostmark, or whatever name they called Ostmark in this world. For a second she seemed unsure in taking it, but she took the pistol from Ghost's hand with little hesitation. If this world is as bad and the people that Ghost and Roach fought as ruthless as they claimed, then she must defend herself, especially if she is without her magic.

"I... apologize... for my actions, Lieutenant."

Ghost smiles warmly. "Don't worry about it luv. It happens."

He stands up and scans the surrounding area. Surprisingly enough, there's no Ultranationalists or Troops in black and tan charging them He hopes that the surrounding tree line may have muffled any noise. Gesturing to Roach, he pointed to the tree line. "Roach, on point."

Roach nods. "Roger."

Before both men can move, Gertrud poses a question to the two men of the Task Force.

"What about my Strikers?"

Both men stop; look at each other, turn to Barkhorn, to the striker, back to Barkhorn and then themselves again. They haven't thought about that little problem.

"I don't suppose we can just leave them here?" Roach asks.

"I can't just leave my Strikers!" Gertrud insists adamantly. "We have to take them!"

"Why not leave em? It's not like anyone in our world can use them."

"It's like you and your weapons. Like a good soldier who must not relinquish his weapon, a good witch must not abandon her striker if she can help it!"

Both men sigh heavily. When she put it that way, she had a point. A soldier isn't much without the tools of his trade. That, and with just talking Gertrud out of a panic attack, they didn't want to trigger another. That's something they don't want to repeat, especially here and now. They stare at each other until Roach finally shrugs. "I'll help carry one of them I guess."

"Can you handle it and taking point at the same time?" Ghost asks.

"I think so."

"Then let's get moving. Better find some way of contacting the others."

After struggling with one of the Striker devices and Gertrud carrying the other, Roach takes point and moves up the hill. He can remember vividly running down this very hill to the LZ with mortar fragments in his legs. While reaching the top, they notice a strange smell akin to a BBQ pit and burned flesh and decide to investigate. After some silent maneuvering across the South East field, both men pause at a painfully familiar sight now made horrendously graphic. Ozone's body... or what's left of it; left leg still missing below the knee, the lower leg a foot away. But the Canadian man's body was charred to a crisp, reduced to an ash-covered, scorched skeleton that was dressed head to toe in the gear and uniform he wore in life, now blackened from flames. His corpse was still clutching his side arm, which was burned and mostly melted to his boney hand. Both men stared silently, figuring that Shadow Company must have "cleaned up" with a little gasoline and an open flame. They start thinking that if things had turned out different; they too would be charred skeletons in a ditch.

Gertrud proceeded to wretch heavily behind a nearby tree. Ghost turned to Gertrud. "Are you alright?" He asked.

Gertrud wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her knuckle. "S-sorry...I've never seen anyone do this to a person before."

This puzzled Ghost for a second until he started thinking about it. Though Gertrud was an Ace Witch and a veteran of a war against aliens, the worst she probably has ever seen is comrades in arms disappearing in a flash of pink light. While sudden, surprising and terrifying, it wasn't nearly as messy, gritty or intense as charred bodies or men blown up in a shower of blood and gore. Ghost had seen many ways that person could have their lives cut short on the battlefield, most of which were not very pretty.

Roach seemed to be in his own little world. He took a knee next to the charred body of Ozone and stared at the corpse for a while. Slowly he reaches under the burnt uniform of his fallen comrade and removes the blackened dogtags of his fallen Canadian friend. He tries to wipe off the soot on the dogtag with his gloved hand, but can barely get any removed. He turns the tags over in his hand before placing them in his webbing.

Gertrud struggled again to look at this person that the men of the 141 were hovering over. "A friend?" she asked.

Roach nods. "Yeah. His name's Ozone."

"I'm Sorry..."

Ghost sighs. "We better get a move on then. If we plan on honouring him, we have to stay alive and complete our mission for him. We will need to get in touch with Price and MacTavish."

Roach turns to the Lieutenant, giving him a stern look. "I don't like leaving him like this sir. And his family should know-"

"I know, Roach. We will let his family know, but right now we have pressing matters...when we get the chance we can lay him to rest."

Roach cursed under his breath. He hated to admit it but Ghost was right. Grieving and giving due to the dead would have to come later. Still didn't mean he didn't like it any less. It didn't feel right leaving Ozone just laying their like this.

The trio silently pass Ozone's body and closer to the safe house. Continuing onward, they can see the body's of Ultranationalists who are similarly cremated. While passing, Gertrud kept shifting her gaze away from the remains of the dead Ultranationalists, the images of war here are worse than the ones in her world, and to her that's saying a lot. Upon spotting the safe house, they notice that one of the second story windows has a light on. Approaching from the basement, they peak into a doorway. Ghost takes point with Roach and Gertrud following suit. Immediately upon entering, Ghost notices a man asleep in a chair, a UMP resting next to him. He could tell from both the man's uniform and his gear that it was one of Shepherds Shadow Company.

Switching from his rifle, he draws his combat knife and prepares to neutralize the target. Gertrud grabs his arm and shoots him a look. _What are you doing?_

Ghost batted the girls hand away, brings his finger up to his mouth, indicating the desire for silence, gestures toward the sleeping man and makes a neck slicing gesture. He turns around and slowly approaches the sleeping man. With one fluid motion, Ghost covers the man's balaclava covered mouth and plunges the knife deep into the man's jugular. The man's eye's snap open and wide for but the briefest of moments, a muffled cry escaping from behind Ghost's hand, soon followed by a wash of lifelessness in the man's eyes.

Gertrud flinches and turns away as Ghost dose the deed. Even having been told about what soldiers must do in this world, she still couldn't prepare herself for it. Men killing men is still an unfamiliar practice for her. Ghost took barley a second to admire his handy work as he replaces his combat knife into his sheath. He glances over at Gertrud and speaks quietly.

"Dirty business killing men while they sleep, not many soldiers are capable of it. But it's safe to say that if the situation was reversed, he'd do the same to us."

Gertrud drew a heavy breath. While disheartening to see, at least she was in the company of men who knew the difference between right and wrong, even if sometimes they forced themselves to do wrong to stay alive.

Roach sets aside the M240 and takes the dead man's UMP and clips of ammo. He needed a close quarter's weapon to clear this house. They clear the basement not finding any other contacts and move upstairs. Rounding the corner and into the kitchen, they see a man cooking at a stove with a frying pan. He seemed to also belong to Shadow Company. Ghost gestured over for Roach to take him.

After setting aside the Striker Unit, Roach slowly approaches the man while drawing his combat knife. Roach has made his share of stealth kills in his time, so it shouldn't have been too difficult. Just as he's right behind the unsuspecting soldier, the floor gives a bit and makes a slightly audible creak. Quickly acting, Roach covers his hand over the man's mouth and plunges the knife into his heart. The man flails, trying to grab the pan to use as a bludgeon, the fried eggs and sausage in the pan smacking Roach in the face. It smelled good, but was burning the Sergeants face a bit. Roach drags the man away from the stove as life leaves him, but the frying pan in his grasp hits the floor, clattering across the wooden floor boards.

A voice from the adjacent room is heard. "Hey, Porter, what's going on over there? Better not have dropped our meal dude, I need energy and a full stomach here."

Ghost moves with brisk silence as footsteps approach the room, just as another Shadow Company Soldier walks into the kitchen door; Ghost's Knife is already in his hand and plunged into the man's neck. A surprised gurgling escapes him as he clutches his throat and crumples to the floor. Drawing his Glock 18 machine pistol, Ghost moves into the next room while Roach hastily takes the left doorway of the kitchen. He can hear heavy footsteps upstairs. The other occupants must have heard the noise.

_Looks like things aren't going to be easy._ Ghost murmurs silently.

A man who had been sitting in a chair has turned to face and charge Ghost and is in mid draw of his sidearm. Ghost aim's his pistol but the opponent closes the distance and knocks the Glock 18 out of Ghost's grip. As he draws his own pistol, an M9, Ghost grabs his wrist and twists, the pistol falling to the floor. Ghost takes a swing with his knife but the target blocks the blade and tackles him into the wall, grabbing Ghost's hand holding the knife. Both men are now rolling around on the floor, trading blows and overall struggling to kill each other.

"IT'S GHOST! IT'S GHOST!" The Shadow Company Trooper is yelling bloody murder, trying to get his comrades alerted.

As Roach enters the living room that Ghost and the Shadow Company man are rolling around in the room, knocking into a table with computers on it. The footsteps up stairs quicken and he can hear them travelling down the stairs. Out of his periph he spots a hostile contact with a tactical Shotgun approaching, weapon levelled at both Ghost and the other Shadow Company trooper he was fighting with. Roach Fires his UMP into the man's legs and he falls forward down the stars, wounded. Before Roach can finish off the wounded man, another tango hustles through the front doorway and takes aim at him.

"Fuck!"

Roach about faces and runs back into the kitchen. As rifle rounds wiz past him he takes cover round the corner and returns fire. The Shadow Company Soldier rolls back out of the door way in time and both men are engaged in a firefight, while Ghost and the man he's wrestling with are still engaged in their fight on the floor, only now with 5.56mm FMJ and 45 ACP rounds whizzing above their heads, knocking over a lamp, a computer and several documents on adjacent tables.

Gertrud steps into the doorway of the room and sees the commotion, with Ghost and Roach occupied with their respective targets. But she saw a man with a strange shotgun attempt to get to his knees, blood seeping from his legs. As he looks up, he spots Gertrud, causing her to catch her breath and freeze. He stares at her a moment, unsure what to make of her.

Ghost notice this and screams at her. "SHOOT HIM!" All the while the man he's fighting has drawn his combat knife and is trying to stab Ghost. Both men are locked in stalemate.

Gertrud jumps at the Lieutenant's voice. The man blinks and weakly try's to raise his shotgun. The Glock in Gertrud's hand shakily raises and she trains it on the wounded man. She hesitates. She has never taken the life of a person before...

"SHOOT HIM!" Ghost repeats.

As the barrel of the man's shotgun is pointed at her, she pulls the trigger. The machine pistols rapid fire report was deafening. The recoil was near uncontrollable as it bucked wildly in her grasp. Blood spatter indicated that the man she just fired at was indeed hit: Five times in the torso, six in the arms and seven times in the head. He collapsed and lay unmoving, the blood pool steadily growing around him. The enemy in the door way leans out of his cover to exchange fire with Roach, but spots Gertrud. His moment of pause is enough for Roach to fire a burst into him.

Ghost struggles with his opponent, the man's knife slowing inching it's way to Ghost's face. Ghost decides to employ a dirt tactic and squarely kicks the man in his balls. The man groans painfully and the force on Ghost's body weakens. Rolling the man off of him, Ghost mounts his opponent and starts stabbing the man repeatedly. After about twenty stabs and getting spattered with blood, Ghost stands , retrieves the ACR from his back, empties the clip into him and leaves the man laying dead. He turns to Roach, panting heavily. He empties the magazine from his ACR, checks to confirm that it's empty, and then tosses it to the floor.

"Well, that could have gone a bit smoother."Ghost groans in an overly sarcastic tone.

Roach winces. "Yeah, I'm reckoning this one is going on my list of fuck-ups?"

"I'll chew you out later, go get that Striker Unit and find us a vehicle."

"What about her?" Roach asks, pointing at Gertrud.

Both men find that she is standing still, the Glock in her hand still pointed at the now dead Shadow Company operator that she had just shot. The look on her face was one of surprise, her eyes locked on the neutralized target.

Ghost sighs. "I'll take care of her. You just take care of your task, alright?"

Roach nods and walks off to get the Striker he set aside earlier and find a ride, mopping fried eggs off his face. Ghost meanwhile retrieves his dropped Glock and holsters it. He approaches the young witch and makes sure she is alright.

"Are you okay?"

Gertrud blinks and turns the Glock over in her hand, her gaze travelling over it. She responds in a barely audible whisper. "I just killed that man..."

"It was either you or him love. He would have slotted you unless you slotted him. You fired to defend yourself and remove a threat. You did good..."

"It's... not the same..."

"What isn't the same?"

"It's...not the same as killing a Neuroi..."

"No, it isn't. I know it's a first for you, but if you're going to last long in our world and survive this war looming on the horizon, you'll have to get used to doing this again, and fast."

Gertrud is silent, wounding how she could possibly commit such an act of violence towards another person again. She may have beaten people up occasion, but it's the first time she had ever killed someone. The only things she had ever killed before were Neuroi, and she killed them in large numbers. But killing a person felt different...it didn't feel right. But being a disciplined Kalrslander she begun thinking that she would now have to adapt. She will probably be stuck here for a long period of time for all she knew, and at any moment hostile men would be gunning for her and those she kept company with. Ghost was right; if she was going to survive on this new battlefield, she must learn from Ghost and his comrades about how to be a soldier in this reality.

Ghost extended his hand to her palm up. "Can I have that back luv?" motioning to the pistol in her hand.

She hands the pistol back to him and lowers the Striker in her shoulder to the floor. Ghost then motions her to follow him, and he leads her upstairs. Walking into a bed room, he approaches a shot up dresser and starts going through drawers of different clothing, mostly BDU's and surplus military cloths.

"We're going to have to get you geared up proper, luv." Ghost explains. "So let's see about getting you a change of clothes."

"What's wrong with my uniform?" Gertrud asks.

Ghost turns to her wearing a flat face that was clearly reading: _Really?_ He inhales deeply and speaks flatly. "Honestly Gertrud? In our world, what you're wearing can't even be called a uniform. You look as though you're employed at a bottomless bar or something."

Gertrud looks over her uniform, taking in this information. The idea that women actually wore pants in this reality was news to her. The idea that not wearing pants was anyway indecent is a strange concept; active Witches often went pants-less so they can don their strikers quicker in the event of enemy attack by Neuroi, and that many girls back home idolized witches to the point that they also went pants-less to emulate the famed witches that faced Neuroi and was something that has been the norm for her for as long as she could remember.

"I...didn't know. Do I really need to change my clothes?"

"Well, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Or whatever you call Romans back home in your reality."

Ghost had gone through several drawers, finding several different camouflage patterns, though the majority found were Russian camo patterns. He was hesitant in handing these over to Gertrud as he didn't want her getting shot the moment she met the rest of the Task Force. The last drawer had pants that were German Flecktarn that was buried underneath several Russian BDU's and seeing as it was close to something that was NOT Russian, Ghost takes the slacks and shifts over to a closet. He searches through different jackets on hangers and pulls out a Flecktarn parka and battle dress tunic, surprised that Makarov's men actually had Flecktarn lying around. Then again, their uniforms were a mishmash of military surplus so he guessed they must have gotten their hands on whatever worked.

He tosses them to Gertrud. "Here, these will suit you. If you were born in this world, they'd the uniform of your homeland."

"T-this is a Karlsland uniform?" she asks surprised. It was a uniform she had never seen before; the uniform soldiers from her homeland had worn were Grey, black or a Grey-Green Uniforms. This was a strange, blotchy pattern of green, brown and black.

"It would be called Germany here, but in essence, yes."

Moving to a crate sitting at the foot of a rather messy bed, Ghost opens it to find a few 6B-43 tactical vests as well as PASGT and ACH helmets. He picks up one of the black vests and a matching ACH Helmet, casting the load bearing vest at her feet and placing the helmet on her head.

"Once you get dressed put these on and find yourself some socks and a pair of combat boots if you can find any. I'll be trying to find a landline downstairs or something to contact Captain Price. I don't want to use my comm., Shepherd could use tracking satellites to decrypt and triangulate my encrypted satellite comm if I take too long. It will be harder for him to track on a landline. Once you're dressed, Roach and I will have you kitted out with some gear and your choice in weapons. Sound good?"

Gertrud nods in response. As Ghost is about to leave, she mumbles something. Ghost stops and turns back to the young witch and raises an eyebrow, having missed what she had said. "I'm sorry, you say something Barkhorn?"

"...thank you Lieutenant."

"Not a problem, Captain Barkhorn. Glad to be of service."

* * *

><p>Foley and the Rangers glance about the truck they were being held in while in shackles. The looks of the men accompanying them were faces of anger, distrust and hostility. They were caught and detained by both Krupke's men and volunteers from the base that had wanted to "save" the young Karlsland Ace that had been with them only a half hour ago. One of the men from Krupke's security detail was holding their weapons, looking them over curiously.<p>

The Rangers wore dull, neutral looks. They knew that pretty soon, once they were back at the witch's base that shit was going to hit the fan at mach speed. Still, they didn't know just what will be in store for them. Though they had the knowing feeling it won't just be regular military personnel ready to kick their asses.

One of the men, a base volunteer, leans forward. "You three are going to pay for that little stunt you pulled back there. Mark my words, the three of ya are going to get your butts hung from a flagpole."

Foley glances over to his men, who glance back silently, an unspoken cautionary warning to stay silent and not provoke. Dunn frowns and tilts this head disapprovingly, while Ramirez rolls his eyes, grudgingly resigned to the current situation. The man speaking to them continues.

"We were willing to give you guys the benefit of the doubt and welcome you into our base, and your repay that hospitality by kidnapping one of our girls, using her as a hostage and doing god knows what to her!"

The other men nod and voice their agreements.

"Hey, you better get the record straight; we didn't do anything to her alright." Dunn protests.

"Oh really, so why did you take her hostage and threaten Generalveterinär Krupke?"

"WE didn't take her hostage, that little idea was Ghost's plan." Foley replies, speaking a half-truth. He was calm and professional in voice, unlike his younger squad members.

"And you got that last part backward: We didn't threaten him, he threatened us!" Ramirez insists.

One of Krupke's men glances at the Private blankly. "He's lying, don't listen to him."

Ramirez turns to look at Krupke's goon, who appeared to have been the senior squad leader of Krupke's detail. "Oh, I'll bet that old bastard told you to say that didn't he? Or maybe you're ego is still bruised from Ghost and Roach still beating the shit out of it back there."

"Shut up." The man growled.

"What, you think that's supposed to scare me? I've had gang-banger wannabe assholes prowling my neighbourhood thinking that they were the shit. Nothing but an overinflated ego and lacking in decency, honor, respect and no fucking balls. They were idiots with overpriced cars, drugs, guns and no backbone. Fuck, I've seen jellyfish with more spine but they still thought they were the toughest guys on the block. They even threatened my friends and family a few times for kicks. " Ramirez scoffed. "A handful of em played a different tune once word got out that a Ranger was living up the street... and here you think you can work me over so easily?"

"Private." Foley turns to Ramirez and shakes his head. He wants the young Ranger to stay quiet and not say anything that could get them in deeper trouble. The private of Hunter-21 falls silent.

The Karlsland vet laughs. "Looks like your nothing more than a thug blowing hot air. You think you're so tough when in fact you're weak and undisciplined. I don't know what you call your country back home, but if this is the best men it can produce, then I'm not impressed."

Dunn scoffs. "Yeah, says the guy who got jumped by a pair of Limeys, your one to talk." Foley shoots a look at Dunn, but the Corporal is pretending he doesn't notice it.

The other man, the base volunteer, continues. "I honestly could give less a damn what happened between the two of you, but so help me if any harm has come to Captain Barkhorn I'll see to it that each one of you gets what's come to ya."

"What makes you think we did anything to her? What? Do you guys really expect the absolute worst of us?" Before the volunteer could reply, Dunn then questions him, in a thoughtful tone. "Or are you one of "those" guys?"

Foley starts getting an annoying, uneasy feeling. "Dunn, don't do anything stupid."

The volunteer turns to Dunn. "What the hell do you mean by that?" he asks Dunn.

"What I'm saying-"

"DUNN!" Foley barks, interrupting the Corporal before he can spell it out. "That bullshit isn't going to help us! Now shut up before I order you to shut up, is that clear?" Looking rather put off, Dunn relents and slumps back into his seat, muttering quietly. Foley addresses the men in the truck.

"Look, the three of us could make up any story we want but frankly I much rather not waste it on people who aren't my enemy. I appreciate that you all let us into your base as guests and I'm sorry that things turned out like they did. Believe me, I didn't think I was going to go down this way either, but that's life, so I guess we all better deal with it."

The men all study Sergeant Foley carefully before one of them asks a question. "Are you all working with those two that took the Captain?"

"They didn't take her." Foley corrected calmly. "She fought off Neuroi for us. I think she got tired and wound up landing in Ground Zero at the wrong time."

"Why would she fight Neuroi for you guys?" One of the men asks indignantly.

Foley shrugs. "She's a witch, right? Isn't that her job?" He's got them there, they seem to buy that part at least, or from the reaction he got that they did. But from the looks of things, he's still stuck playing Twenty Questions.

"But you both were working together." The other man questions him. "You all threatened Krupke."

"We just happened to be going to the same reality. We're Ranger's, they arn't. We have our own mission to deal with, they have theirs. And for the record, Ghost and Roach were the ones to act when we were threatened."

"No matter how you slice it, at the very least you were accomplices. And why do you insist on this story that the Generalveterinär was the aggressor?"

Foley decides to end it here. No point trying to explain to those who won't listen. "If you want answers, try asking one of the Karlslander witches about Krupke. If you want to know who the real threat to the witches is; I can assure you it won't be found in the three of us."

"That's quite enough out of you, Liberion, or whatever you call yourself." The Karlsland vet barks. "Now keep quiet if you know what's good for you."

The rest of the trip is a silent ride. After rolling through the base entrance, the truck eventually comes to a stop at the motor pool. The Ranger's are escorted roughly by the trucks occupants with a guard flanking each Ranger. As they are being escorted by the entourage of personnel, they notice Major Sakamoto approaching. The look on her face bespoke barley contained rage.

One of Krupke's men addresses her as she approaches. "Major, we have the three of them in custody."

"Step aside." She orders darkly.

"Mamm?"

"I SAID MOVE!" She unsheathes her sword as she draws closer to the group. Everyone quickly steps back, away from the Rangers. The trio seemed relived until the Major's uncovered eye glares at them. "You bastards..."

"Whoa, Whoa, WHOA!" Dunn tries to stop the Majors attack as she brings her Katana to Sergeant Foley's neck in an upwards stroke, the magically enhanced blade comes within an inch of the Sergeant's jugular. Foley's eyes widen, but he also seemed oddly calm.

"HOLY SHIT!" Ramirez utters in a shocked voice.

Dunn tries to persuade the Major to stand down. "WHOA! WHOA, HOLD UP ONE GOD DAMNED MINIUTE WILL YA? Can you please just...put the sword down a sec?"

"And here I thought I only needed to worry about the two men with secrets, but it appears that they aren't the only ones I should have watched." Sakamoto commented angrily. From what she had heard from many eyewitnesses, Ghost and Roach weren't the only ones that have done things that were less then becoming.

Foley replies with an eerie calm. "The Captain is fine Major. We didn't visit any harm to her, and right now she's got the best operators in our world watching her six. They will keep her safe."

The Major is surprised that the Sergeant is acting so calmly with her sword so close to her neck, but more than that, she was angry with him. "You threatened a superior officer and guest of this base, you take one of our ace witches hostage, threaten and restrain our people, steal our vehicles and endanger the lives of everyone involved. Why? WHY IS IT YOU DECIDED TO CARRY OUT THESE ACTIONS?"

Foley is starting to get tired of sounding like a broken record, but as it is, he makes sure the record is set straight. "First off mamm: We were NOT the ones who did the threatening. Second: WE weren't the ones who took Captain Barkhorn Hostage. And third: If you want the answer to everything else, ask the Karlslanders."

This statement makes everyone confused. All parties murmur quietly to each other over what Foley could have meant by this. Sakamoto studies the acting commander of Hunter-21. Seeing as they don't get it, he elaborates. Turning to face the group behind him, he sees Ursula being escorted off another one of the trucks with the two injured tank witches and calls to her.

"Flying Officer, your country was invaded and is occupied by the enemy, is that right?" he asks the young inventor.

Ursula nods. "Yes, that's a correct assessment."

"Then you and I share something in common." He turns to the Major and speaks frankly to her. "Right now my country is being invaded and occupied by a hostile force. They have been killing a lot of good men and women and are even putting civilians in the cross-hairs. My men and I need to get home. I'm sorry about all the trouble and that the Captain may be walking into our battles, but my boys and I need to get our boots back on the front line. Last I heard there is supposed to be a push to New York to beat back the Russian Offensive. We will need to be there for that or the effectiveness of the counter attack will deteriorate. It may not excuse everything that has happened, but maybe now you can understand what's motivating us."

Major Sakamoto studied the Ranger that stood before her at her mercy. She didn't know if what he said was just some sort of trick or if he spoke the truth. She just couldn't tell anymore. She was now hesitant to trust him, and her eye telegraphed this.

Foley then grew stern, and the look on his face seemed to indicate that he came to a decision. "If you think I'm lying to you Major, or if you think I deserve it, then by all means, kill me."

"Sarge?" Ramirez couldn't believe what he was hearing. He did hear that correctly, right? Sergeant Foley, making a life or death ultimatum to the Major of the 501st? With HIS OWN life on the line.

"Sean! What the fuck man! Are you crazy?" Dunn shouted.

Everyone else also seemed to be at a loss. Even Major Mio Sakamoto seemed to be dumbstruck. This man, whose life was an inch away from being extinguished with the mere stroke of her sword, was actually ready to die, right here and now.

"What?" Sakamoto croaks.

"That's why you drew your sword, isn't it Major?" The Sergeant continues. "Wither a gun or a blade, if someone draws their weapon it means they are prepared to use it. Don't tell me that this whole time you intended to make threats with it?" His voice rises as he continues speaking to the Major. "A WEAPON ISN'T FOR THREATS, IT'S FOR ACTION. EITHER TAKE ACTION, USE THAT DAMNED BLADE OR SHEATH IT! BECAUE IF YOU DON'T INTEND TO USE IT RIGHT NOW, THEN YOU SHOULD DAMNED WELL KNOW BETTER!"

The base grounds are deathly silent, everyone staring awe struck at the Ranger Sergeant whose voice had carried the weight, wisdom and vigor of General Patton himself. Even Dunn and Ramirez were impressed at the display of their older battle brother. The world had seemed to stand still. After some time of quiet thought, her eye studying first the older Ranger and then her sword, Major Sakamoto's Katana slowly lowers.

"I see... you are ready to die for your mission and what you believe in. I understand now...your right about this sword..." She slowly sheaths it in the scabbard at her side. "To think that I would draw it so needlessly is shameful for a warrior of Fuso. I still have much to learn it seems..."

"You're leaning now, and leaning is what life's all about." Foley says smiling.

"It appears so."

Abruptly, the Major brings her sheathed sword in a wide, swinging arc and it connects squarely across the side of his head, sending the man flying perpendicular to the ground. Everyone's mouths drop the moment Foley hits the ground.

Ramirez and Dunn proceed to flip their shit. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" They both demand in unison.

"You may be wise and knowledgeable. And perhaps you are telling the truth. But if you think I'm letting you off easy then you're sorely mistaken. You WILL answer for your part in all this, Sergeant, and that's exactly what you will learn today." The major says at last.

Foley slowly rolls onto his back and then sits up cross-legged, facing the Major. "I wouldn't have it any other way Major. I can take my lumps." He seems to smile in subdued respect. Foley was your standard issue tough as nails Sergeant and he could see that both he and the Major were cut from the same cloth. Both of them were tough, determined and held a certain level of honor, tempered with guts that could only be forged through operational experience. Even with his head pounding from the blow, he respected the Majors authority.

A familiar voice then speaks out. "I'd rather have you relatively intact Sergeant." Foley's eyes shift to Krupke who is now slowly approaching him. "I also need you awake and alert to give some more information that you may have."

Krupke turns and frowns at the Major in disapproval, eliciting a guilty look in the 501st's Fuso Swordswomen. Krupke then motions to the men in his security detail. "Take these men to a holding cell. We have a lot of work to do." Krupke marches off while uttering a curse under his breath, leaving his men to carry out their task. Dunn and Ramirez are roughly ushered away while Foley is helped up quickly off the ground. As he's being walked past the Major, he stops and whispers to her, even with the guards trying to usher him along while his head throbbed in pain inside his helmet. He guessed that Mio used her magic to increase the force of the blow, remembering how Ghost explained how Captain Barkhorn kidded his ass. He spoke with urgency.

"Something else Major, you should know about getting an incoming knife in the back. You want to know who the threat to your fighter wing is: ask the Heartmann sisters. They can fill you in."

With that, Foley is dragged off along with his men, leaving Mio Sakamoto to ponder the Sergeants words of warning. _What is he planning? Could it be some sort of ploy...no...no he was far too earnest for that to be the case. _Her gaze travels to Ursula. _Do Erica and Ursula know something? What could it be?_

* * *

><p>Perrine hid behind a stack of crates as she watches everything unfold on the base grounds. She could hear the Sergeant's booming voice as he spoke to Sakamoto, and saw the moment he was smacked upside the head with the major's sheath. But she also saw that Krupke was still livid after ordering the three Ranger's into holding cells, his men ushering them away for confinement.<p>

The injured tank witches are escorted by the base volunteers to the medical wing, but she found it peculiar that the Major had approached Erica's twin sister once everyone had dispersed. They spoke briefly and both hustled quickly to the Headquarters. She silently cursed that she couldn't hear a thing that was said. Nor did she understand what had happened.

* * *

><p>Ghost had been on the line with Price for about three minutes now, giving the old Captain a full report, or as close to full as he could give. The Lieutenant reported that he and Roach had possession of the DSM and had managed to avoid capture at the hands of the enemy. After getting a Sit-Rep of the rest of the Task Force, Ghost felt some relief that some of the 141 was still up and kicking, but too many operators have been killed for his liking. Too many comrades in arms cut down by Shepherd in his bid for glory. For reasons that were obvious Ghost decided to hold off on explaining about the little "trip" he and Roach had taken into Gertrud's world, at least until he was face to face with the both the Captains. When Price kept pressing for an explanation to how the two of the had avoided getting killed and where they had been for nearly five days the best he could manage was that they were hidden. Ghost could tell from the old man's voice that it probably didn't take.<p>

"Look sir, I know I've got some explaining to do, and once I link up with you and MacTavish I'll tell you both the whole story, but right now I'll need some orders sir. Roach and I managed to take down some of the Shadow Company in Makarov's safe house and stocked up on what we need, so if it's alright with you sir, I need to know what our next move is going to be."

"Alright Ghost, seeing as you both managed to avoid capture for this long, then it's about time you got back into it. Soap and I are going to conduct an Op at Shepherds base. It's Site Hotel Bravo in Afghanistan. We've got some solid Intel on the location, layout and the enemy's strength. I was about ready to for Soap and I to go in alone, but Soap convinced me to hold off until it's confirmed that you both are still combat effective to join us for the mission. Seeing you're both still with us, we could use the extra hands."

"I'd be obliged sir."

"Good man. I'm going to convince Nikolai to have one of his contacts pick you and Roach up. Get yourself some transport and make your way someplace open and secluded for a chopper pickup. And try to keep out of sight of Shadow Company or any Ultranationalists that may still be out there. We will meet up at Hotel Bravo and kick this thing off."

"Roger that." Ghost thinks for a moment before he decides, hesitantly, to add one more thing before ending the call. "Sir... something else I should mention. Roach and I aren't alone."

A long silence is heard before Price replies in a serious, questioning tone. "What do you mean you're not alone?"

"We've had some help sir. I can't go into much detail right now but she's been a life saver."

Price sounds unsure; Ghost had pulled out a real wildcard. "She?"

"Yes sir."

"And you trust her?"

"Yes sir, with my life."

"That much then... you're sure about that Ghost? "

"If you're speaking in terms of her character or if she will stand with us, absolutely, without question. In everything else she is still a little new to this, but she will learn. She's disciplined, brave and loyal. She'll get the hang of it, sir. We can trust her."

Price is silent again until at last he sounds accepting of this information, if reluctantly. "If it's coming from you than I guess that's saying something. But I'll expect to meet this lass in person once we rally at Site Hotel Bravo. I'd rather meet with her before then but we're out of time. We get this done and dusted so we can send Makarov's slimy ass to hell. You have your orders Lieutenant, we'll see you at the rally."

"Understood sir, we're Oscar Mike, out."

"Out."

Ghost hung up the phone in the living room and proceeded out the front door. Once outside he approaches an armored jeep that was used by Makarov's men that the Shadow Company Soldiers had used. He finds Roach and Gertrud waiting for him; Roach had found another pair of dogtags that had belonged to Scarecrow, whose body was found, charred, laying where the solar panels' were, as well as the dogtags of the other fallen men of the Task Force. Roach was studying them in his hand, A TAR-21 slung over his shoulder with full ammunition clips in his rigging while stocked with Frags and Flahsbangs. Ghost found Gertrud to be quite a sight: dressed head to toe in Fleckturn, wearing the 6B-43 tactical vest and the ACH helmet fitting snuggly on her head with goggles resting atop it. Roach had also found her a set of black knee and elbow pads and a headset radio picked off of one of the Shadow Company men. Ghost noticed her penchant for heavy firepower, having selected an M240 with ACOG sight and a side mounted grip, with an RPG-7 and four spare rockets on her back, along with frags and stun grenades, as well as a USP. .45 held in a drop leg holster. He noted that she opted to have her hair down; the elastic bands that held her hair up were now wrapped around her right wrist. She looked like she would fit right in with the German Army in his world.

Roach looked up at Ghost, pocketing Scarecrows dogtags, noting that the Lieutenant was fully stocked on ammo and equipment, his ACR now topped up with full mags. "I guess we're off then?"

Ghost nods. "Did you get those explosives planted?"

"Just as you ordered sir." Earlier Ghost had instructed him to plant C4 around the house, get it rigged to blow. They weren't going to let any of their enemy's use this place nor its contents as an asset to use against what was left of the 141.

"Well, last chance to stock up what you need before we turn that place into a crater."

Being met with silence Ghost motions Roach and Gertrud to the jeep. "Time to go you two. We have to get to our rally point. There may be a place east a few miles that we can get a pick up at."

As everyone piles into the jeep, Ghost can see that both Roach and Gertrud seemed troubled and he looks to each of them. "You both holding up alright?"

Roach sighs. "Yes sir. At least... I will be at any rate."

Ghost turns to Gertrud in the back seat and gets a read on her facial features. She seemed depressed, and yet determined all at once. "I'll have to adjust I guess. We should probably go, we shouldn't let the enemy find us."

Ghost's gaze holds on her a moment. Gertrud truly was a soldier at heart. Even in all likelihood of being afraid and upset about her situation, she had the will and guts to march forward and do what she needed to do. Ghost admired that. He can see her strikers lying on the back seat and her old witch's uniform all folded neatly alongside them. The woman they belonged to was no longer a witch, just another soldier. Ghost sighed, turning to face the dirt road before them.

"Get this thing in gear Roach."

"Yes sir."

Roach starts up the armored jeep and puts it in drive, easing on the gas for a smooth start, driving past the solar panels. After about several feet, Ghost gives the Sergeant an order.

"Roach, get the clacker."

"Roger." Roach produces the small detonator from his webbing and holds it with one hand, his other hand on the wheel. He's looking straight ahead at the dirt road.

"Do it."

Silently and without ceremony, Roach presses the switch on the detonator. Several dozen feet behind them is the sound of an explosion followed by a fireball and smoke, the cabin that had once been one of Makarov's safe houses is now engulfed in flame. Gertrud looks back at the billowing smoke cloud for a moment before turning back. She was now headed forth on a road to battlefields that we're alien to her. But it seemed in all likelihood they may not stay that way for long.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Dunn had to admit that there are three things that he didn't like: Incredibly weird and stressful situations, Russians invading his country and sitting in a jail cell board out of his mind. With Foley and Ramirez as the only company Dunn was off in a corner of the cell sitting on the floor with his back up against the wall. Other then breathing and fidgeting a little and counting the number of bricks in the cell, the only other thing he could do was pace the cell or bang some cup against the bars, but the guards already took away his canteen and his legs were tired from the past five hours of pacing. So this was the last thing he could do to pass the time. He's sure he counted the amount of bricks in the cell three times already.

Ramirez and Foley meanwhile had been dealing with their confinement differently. Ramirez kept an IPod in a Ziploc bag that was stored in his webbing, surprisingly still in good shape despite the battles that the three rangers were in as of late. He was bobbing his head to whatever beat was playing, quietly humming to the tune of the music. Foley, meanwhile, was sitting in the center of the cell with a calm, thousand-mile stair on his face. Dunn wasn't sure if the Sergeant was thinking of some plan to get them out of this predicament, but he could tell that he was focused.

_Man, playing the role of prisoner is not fun. _Dunn quips to himself.

Presently the door to the guardhouse cell block opens. A trio of men, one Liberion carrying food, a Karlslander carrying a MP40, and another man of unknown nationality holding a Beretta Modello 38 approach the cell. The man with the food slips it in on a tray through a small four inch space in the bars by the floor.

"Meal time you three. The General wants to make sure you've got the strength for what's coming."

The Ranger's are silent and are unmoving, seemingly tuned out to the world around them. The man frowns and shakes his head. Before he can move however, the Karslander darts to the bars and stairs at the Ranger Private.

"You their! Vat is that?!" he barks.

Ramirez glances up and waves the IPod in his hand briskly. "IPod. You use it to listen to music."

The Kalslander unlocks the door with the jailer's key and quickly approaches the younger Ranger with MP40 levelled. "A likely story! Hand it over, now!"

Ramirez sneers; removing he ear buds and slowly handing it to the man. "First my weapon and side arm, now my music? What are you going to take next: my clothes?"

The Karlslander growls, snatches it and puts the device to his ear. He shakes it a little and then looks at the device carefully. "Who iz zis Linken Park, is that the code name of your headquarters?"

"It's the name of a band dude; just stick the buds in your ears."

The Karlslander hesitantly studies the IPod until his eye's fall on the ear peace. He takes one and sticks it in his ear. His face scrunches up in disgust and he tosses it back at the young Ranger. Ramirez worriedly manages to catch it before it hits the floor.

"Hey! Careful with that, that thing has a two hundred dollar price tag!"

"Bah, you call that music, its garbage!"

"Whatever; just don't go breaking my shit."

The man with the Modelo 30 sighs, speaking with a distinct Italian Accent. "Must you be so curt? It's not like they are going to do much in this situation."

"Nobody asked you Romangan, you just mind your own business."

The Liberion man raises both his hands. "Alright you two, stow it. I don't need you guys fighting each other."

Foley bows his head in respect. "I guess we caused some disharmony in this base, huh? Sorry about that."

The three men stair at the three Rangers with confusion and mild-curiosity. The Ranger Sergeant was actually apologizing? The Romangan gestures over to them emphatically, looking rather relieved.

"See, they surly are not going to cause us more trouble. No need to lose your temper every five seconds."

The Karlaslander sighs, exiting the cell and locking it behind him. "Sorry, but can you blame me? Krupke is riding my squad ragged over this. Not to mention Captain Barkhorn is now missing."

Dunn peers at the Karlslander, recognising him as the fresh looking member of the Karlsland General's entourage, apparently also the same man holding and studying their weapons. "I thought you guys under Krupkes command don't like witches."

The Kalrslander frowns. "The others don't but I hold nothing against them. My little sister is a witch serving on the Buldge. Because of that I'm often made the company whipping boy."

"I guess that little stunt that Ghost and Roach cooked up didn't help the matter either huh?" Foley asks.

The Kalrslander avoids eye contact. "I'm not to comment on the earlier goings on, and I am not to fraternize with prisoners."

"Alright then." Foley says respectfully, letting the subject drop.

The Romangan approaches the bars and wears a thoughtful look. "I remember when my squad saw you five in the hallway with the Captain in tow. You three seemed more hesitant then the other two, why is that?"

"We weren't really comfortable using Barkhorn as a hostage; I don't like doing stuff like that to kids." Dunn admits.

The three men seem to glance at each other in surprise. For the past several hours, they had thought the Ranger's to be thugs and braggarts. But seeing that these men committed actions that made them feel genuinely conflicted made them seem a little more sympathetic. The Karlslander notices that Foley is staring straight through him as if he knows something, seemingly with something on his mind, something that involved the young Karlslander. Before anyone can say anything more, the door opens with Mio, Erica and Ursula walking into the room at a brisk pace. Mio addresses the three men watching the Rangers.

"Thank you for watching the prisoner's gentlemen, you are dismissed."

The Liberion man speaks with caution in his voice. "Are you sure mamm?"

Mio nods. "Yes, thank you. I'd like a chance to question these three."

After exchanging brief looks, the three men take their leave. Once they are gone and she is sure the area is clear, Mio speaks to the Ranger's in a quieted voice.

"Are you three okay?"

"Peachy, thanks for asking." Dunn snarks.

Foley glares at Dunn before turning back to the Major. "Ignore him mamm. We're fine."

"I was filled in by Erica and Ursula here on everything and have secretly reported to the Wing Commander. As the Heartmann sisters attest, you spoke the truth earlier."

Ramirez sits up and leans forward. "So you mean you can help us out?"

She nods, but her face is still locked in a stoic expression. "But we will need time to devise a plan and put it in motion. And not just on helping you three return home to your world."

Foley understood what that meant. The Rangers of Hunter-2-1 were not the only ones in trouble. "Understood, how much time are you thinking?"

Mio turns to Ursula, who steps forward and answers Foley's question. "About 48 hours."

"48 hours, are you serious?" Dunn isn't at all happy to hear that. "That's two frigging days!"

"And we will need to get home and to New York in Four days for the counter offensive." Foley said frowning,

"We'll do what we can, try and stall Krupke as much as possible without rousing suspicion. Right now we're thinking of some way to get you three out of confinement."

"How about we just break out." Ramirez asks in a board tone. He is met with a bunch of dirty looks in response.

"Even I think that's a bad idea." Erica remarks.

"Just saying."

"All warfare is based on deception Private. If this is going to work we will need subtlety." Foley turns back to the three witches. "I trust whatever plan you witches come up with will work, but if worst come to worst, don't let Krupke burn you. If it doesn't pan out the three of us can take whatever that son of a bitch throws at us."

"We don't plan on letting that happen." Mio replies.

Before the three witches take their leave, Erica steps forward and asks the Sergeant a question that weighed heavy on her mind.

"Sergeant Foley, I heard about what happened to Trudy... will she be okay?"

After a long silence, Foley speaks. "She's one of the Triple Ace's, right? One of the best trained soldiers in Karlslands military? " he asks.

"Yes, she is."

Foley grins. "Then yeah, if she's with Ghost, Roach and those other guys in the Task Force, she should be more then fine."

* * *

><p><strong>August 16 Day 7 2016<strong>

**Time: 16:59**

**Location: Site Hotel Bravo**

**Tracking: "Soap" MacTavish**

"Price, my contact had dropped off Ghost, Raoch and their friend at drop zone about five miles from your position ten minutes ago. Sandstorm coming in has given him hard time sending message. They should be joining you shortly."

"Copy that Nikolai. We will hold here until they arrive, better make yourself scarce before anyone gets a bead on you."

"Da, I'll wait for you at the exfil point. Three hours."

"Don't bother. This is a one way flight mate."

Nikolai sighs evenly. "Then good luck my friend. Слава Богу."

Soap kept silent and still underneath the desert tan camouflage sheet, the Silenced Intervention resting close against his shoulder. The Afghan heat was scorching and the air was already hot enough, but being covered underneath this tan fabric was almost suffocating. While the week had taken a rather depressing turn of events, at least he could look forward to seeing Ghost and Roach still amongst the living. But he, like Price, were both unsure what to make of this person that Ghost has said had helped both of them. Ultimately Soap decided to reserve judgement once he had a face to face with them.

After about twenty long, uncomfortable minutes of lying completely still, he hears the sound of muffled footsteps approaching from behind to his six o-clock. Peering from beneath the fabric with barely an inch to see through, he notices a pair of black boots marching past six feet away, through the desert sand. He whispers into his comm.

"Price, I've got movement on my left."

The unknown contact pauses and turn's from left to right as if searching for something. Couldn't have heard him, could he? Captain MacTavish hears Price respond quietly.

"How many?"

"Just one, looks like he's alone."

"Good, we'll take em on my go." Price pauses then counts down. "Three... two... one..."

Both men rear up from the ground like phantoms materializing from thin air. Silenced Interventions take aim at the unknown contact that they assume to be one of Shepherds men. Ghost's voice on the radio is heard hissing through the comm channel just before the two Captains drop their target.

"Hold Fire! Bloody hell, hold fire! We're Friendlies!"

Fortunately Price and Soap have had a brief moment of pause before their triggers had been fully depressed. Before them they see a truly bizarre sight: A girl who seemed to be no more than eighteen or nineteen years old, wearing Germen Flecktun and carrying an M240B in her grasp, in addition to an RPG-7 on her back. She was startled, having been caught flatfoot by the former SAS operators and is aiming her weapon wildly at them both, shifting from Price, then Soap and back again.

Soap cocks his head in confusion. "What the bloody hell is this?"

Ghost and Roach quickly come into view over a sandbar and run up to the Captains, both hands raised in non-threatening positions. Price turns to Ghost and begins to question the Lieutenant about the girl in with a tone that was clearly one of a man who was less than impressed.

"Ghost would you mind explaining just what the hell this is?"

"Sorry Captain Price, I decided to let her take point for a while." Ghost explains

"Who the hell is she Lieutenant?" Price demands sternly, gesturing with his head over at the girl, who was still shifting her weapon between the two Captains.

"This Sir?" Ghost turns to the girl for a moment until finally nodding. "This is code name Valkyrie sir."

The old man's reply is given flatly. "Really?" Price, studies the girl from head to toe, lowering his Intervention about an inch, his face drawn in un-amused, dull anger.

The Lieutenant turns to the girl he introduced as Valkyrie and speaks calmly to her. "Easy now luv, they're 141." The girl glances at the Lieutenant with a cautious, questioning look. "It's okay; they just weren't expecting you is all."

Having been convinced to stand down, the girl lowered her weapon, upended it as it came to rest on the desert sand, snapped to attention and saluted the Captains. "Captain Price, Captain MacTavish, it is an honor to finally meet you. Captain Barkhorn of the 501st Strike Witches at your command." She spoke with a distinct German accent, and her face was rather stern for a kid.

Soap was still at a loss for words. He still couldn't believe that Ghost had brought along a kid of all people. "Bloody hell Ghost, would you mind filling us in on this? Where the hell did you find this German Kid?"

"Karlsland." The girl corrected.

Both the Captain's turn to each other with looks of confusion and disbelief, though Price also seemed to turn rather annoyed. Noticing this, the girl (who had introduced herself as Barkhorn) fell silent. Ghost sighed and began to explain.

"You want to know how we've been missing for five days."

"That's a good place to start. Seven minutes to explain, better start now." Price warned.

"I don't suppose Archer and Toad mentioned something about a pillar of blue light or a blue circle appearing on the ground?"

There was a long pause until Price tilts his head towards the Lieutenant, indicating he had. "Go on."

"Let's see, how to put this... I don't suppose you watch Doctor Who by any chance sir?"

"Not recently, I've been locked in a Gulag for ages, so to speak."

"I have." Soap answers. "Bloody good show but what does it have to do with this?"

"Well, I suppose you can say Roach and I took a trip across time and space to help magic using child soldiers to fight a bunch of oversized machine aliens that shoot lasers from taking over the world during the Second World War." Seemingly anticipating the reaction of the two Captains, Ghost raises his hand. "And before you say it: Yes, that sounds crazy and most likely you won't believe it, but it's how Roach and I narrowly avoid getting slotted and why we've disappeared off the face of the Earth for five days." Both men give the Lieutenant a skeptical look, to which Ghost shrugs. "I couldn't make this up even if I tried."

"Ghost, are you sure you're alright in the head?" Soap asks.

Ghost wears a flat face at Soaps question. "No, but my questionable state of mind has nothing to do with this."

Roach quite suddenly pipes up, producing a digital camera from one of his pockets. "I have proof!" It's the same digital camera that He'd got off of Scarecrows body.

Price and Soap turn to Roach with questioning looks. "You do?" they both ask.

Ghost turns to Roach with surprise. "You do?"

"Sure, I took a few photos while we in that other reality. First rule in weird phenomena is to always provide irrefutable physical evidence."

"When the bloody hell did you find time to do that?"

"Well...you know how we were running around trying to find Barkhorn when she was injured?" Roach mentions hesitantly.

"Yeah...hold on a tick! Is that why you were falling behind Roach? ! You were dragging your ass taking photos? !"

"Well, the only other one I took was the group shot we did the day after we arrived, turned out pretty well if do I say so. Even took one of Gertrud's strikers before we were dropped off."

"Roach, you bloody wanker I ought to kick your-"

"Ahem!" Price cleared his throat, shouldered his Intervention and crossed his arms. "Time's wasting and we're in enemy territory you two. We haven't time for this."

"Right." Ghost relented. "Sir, just check the photos and see for yourselves, alright?"

Roach hands the camera over to both Captains and shows them the first photo. They noticed that the group photo had Ghost and Roach grouped together with a bunch of young girls aged ten to 20 who appeared to be half dressed along with what appeared to be three United States Army Rangers, two of which Soap seemed to recognize. As the two veteran SAS operators cycle through photo's the reactions were highly contrasted. Soap's eye's seemed to grow wider and wider until they grew to the size of dinner plates, his mouth dropping inch by slow inch with each picture. Captain Price meanwhile, drew an ever increasing frown, his eyes peering with great intensity. He didn't seem angry anymore, more thoughtful if anything. After a full minute, Price scoffs. His head turns abruptly to Gertrud.

"So you're some magic using, alien fighting soldier from another world then are you?"

Gertrud looks to the Captain's scrutinizing face and nods affirmative. "Yes Captain."

"For how long have you served?"

"I was trained at age 10 in the military, went into active operational combat duty at 14 on the year 1939, sir. I've been participating in battlefield engagements from then to 1945."

"Seven years operational experience then..." He shoves the camera into Soaps hands and approaches her. "Have you ever killed a man, "Captain" Barkhorn?" When Price spoke he wasn't sincere in using the young witches rank. He still was resistant in believing this whole cockamamie story. But for reasons that were beyond him, he continued to question this girl.

Ghost saw Barkhorn's face seem to take the same shocked look she had when she had shot that Shadow Company trooper, her eyes locked widely on the old operator. Her form trembled at the memory that was brought up. At last she swallowed. "O-once, sir."

"But she fought off alien's sir, more than her share; she's an ace back in her world. She even almost got killed in the line of duty, more than once. She can adjust to fighting like us." Ghost defended the young girl. He wasn't about to let her twist in the wind, not when she needed support to get through fighting in this world. He was starting to feel very protective of the young Karlsland Ace.

Price turned to Ghost a moment and then back to Gertrud. A thoughtful look could be read on the grizzled, bearded operator, his old eye's seemed to shine in the desert sun as he attempted to take in the story of this mysterious girl that Ghost and Roach had laid bare for him and Soap. "Soap" MacTavish looked to his mentor and shrugged, now waiting on the old man's decision.

"So what now Price?"

Price looked to his watch. Thirty seconds till they needed to move out, time to cut the chatter. Price retrieved the Intervention off his back and looked to the Lieutenant of the 141.

"Valkyrie, Ghost?" Price asks the Lieutenant questioningly.

"It seemed appropriate sir."

Price still didn't fully accept what Ghost and Roach had presented to him, but all he did know was now he had an extra set of hands to aid on the battlefield, so he decided to leave any further questions for later. Unless of course they didn't survive this mission, but by that point, he figured that none of them would care about details.

"Fine then... Valkyrie, you're with Ghost and Roach, follow everything they do when they do it to the letter. Soap and I will take the ridge and enter the base through there. Ghost, you shadow the parameter. Be sure to keep out of sight, try and get a vantage point on the catwalk once we make our push there."

"Roger. Roach, Valkyrie, follow me, move."

It took a moment for Gertrud to realize that they were speaking to her, addressing her as Valkyrie. She prepared her weapon and following close behind Ghost and Roach. Soap watched as the trio vanished over another sand bar before turning to Price. The old man gestures over to the ridge just as the sandstorm that Nikolai mentioned earlier starts to kick up a little.

"Soap, I'm picking up a thermal spike ahead. The cave must be just over that ridge."

Both men use the cover of the sand cloud to move up the ridge undetected. Once reaching the top, the sandstorm slowly dies down. Once it clears, Price raises a clenched fist and takes a knee, with Soap also halting and going prone.

"Hold up. Enemy patrol. Hold your fire." Old man Price glasses the patrol with the scope on his rifle. An ever so subtle grin forms at the corner of his mouth. "Looks like Makarov's Intel was solid. This is it."

The patrol contained six men and two dogs. Most of the men in the patrol were in the middle of what appeared to be personal conversation. Two of the troopers were leaning against one of two HUMVEE's as the conversation dragged on. After a few seconds two of the men break off from the group with one of the dogs in tow, apparently starting their patrol.

"Good, they're splitting up. Let them separate. This decryption code better be worth the price we paid..." Price managed to get the Shadow Company's comm feed signal from a dead Shadow Company Trooper back in the bone yard. It was set on a channel and encrypted so that the Task Force can hear the enemy's chatter but where they cannot be heard in return. While the old Captain preferred doing something the old-fashioned way, he had to admit, some of the newfangled tech this day and age was nothing to sneeze at. He and Soap could hear the chatter between Shadow Company HQ and one of its squads.

"Go ahead, Alpha."

"Riverbed all clear, over."

The HQ comms officer then addressed another squad. "Bravo?"

"Sandstorm. Not much to see right now, over."

Both Captain's had to venture a guess that they slipped past this particular squad. With the sand storm moving west, all that those SC men would see is a cloud of sand in their view. They hoped it would Provide Ghost, Roach and Valkyrie similar cover, as it was starting to blow in their direction.

The comms officer calls up another squad. "Zulu?"

"Uh, we're starting our patrol east along the canyon. North-side access road, over."

Watching the men below them, Soap knew full well in the next couple seconds, it was going to be the last time this particular squad would transmit anything. As the two soldiers and their dog walked a further distance, it was then that Price decided it was time to take action.

"Focus on the group on the right, directly beneath us. Let's take them out first. I'll take the two on the left." Price instructed.

"Roger that." Soap acknowledged. Both men line up their shots, with Soap taking aim at one of the men resting on the jeep. He aimed directly at the neckline of his target. Then he waited for the signal.

"On my mark. Three... Two... One..."

Both men fired. Soap's round was dead on, tearing through the man's neck, the heavy .50 calibre round traveling through him and into the man directly adjacent, entering from the second man's shoulder to his upper abdomen. Price's round struck the temple of the first man and the upper cheek of the second. A perfect synchronized double kill, one for the textbooks. Soap quickly followed up a shot that took out the dog with ease.

Price smiled. "Just like old times."

"I'll say. This does feel nostalgic, sir."

"All right, we've got to take out the other group before they come back. Move."

Moving briskly to the second hummve that was parked six feet away, Price takes cover close to the engine block, with Soap taking a knee next to a large rock a few feet behind the older Captain. They both see the two Shadow Company troopers pause down the road and scan the parameter in front of them from left to right, while the dog sat in between them.

"I'm in position. Take the shot."

Both men fire their Interventions, the silenced rounds finding their marks, first with the two troopers, then with the dog. Once their targets were neutralized, Price moved forward.

"We don't have much time before they find the bodies. Let's keep moving."

As the two Captains move up, they hear Ghost radio in. "Sir, its Ghost. We're moving around the perimeter while in the cover of the sand storm. It's not very heavy, but it's helping conceal our movement a little, though I doubt it's going to last long... hold one."

After a moments silence, Ghost speaks again, though its barley a whisper. "We've got an enemy patrol here. Six man team. Three rifles, two submachine guns, one machinegun. Shall we take them sir?"

"Have you got silenced weapons?"

"Just Roach and me, we both equipped silencers on our primary weapons before we got dropped off at the LZ."

"Engage only if you have to, if you do then have Valkyrie on standby until things get loud. I say again, do not have her engage until they know we're here."

"Understood sir, good luck to ya."

After Ghost's message, Price directs Soap over to a guard rail overlooking the sheer cliff face.

"Here we go - hook up here."

As the two men begin to prepare ropes for the rappel down to the cave entrance, they can hear the comms officer call in for one of the squads.

"Disciple Four, Oxide. What's your status, over?"

No response from the squad known as Disciple Four, Oxide. Soap finds the Irony palpable; the Comms officer was trying to raise the squad that he and Price had just wiped out. Once he had finished hooking up, he turns to Price and see the old man already waiting to rappel down. Soap takes a step onto the guard rail, he looks down to the ground below the rock face, the corner of his mouth shifting slightly. It was a long drop downwards. He glances to Price, awaiting his command.

Price looks downwards calmly. "Go."

Both men rappel down the side of the cliff-face, a momentary freefall before the ropes become taught and bring both men back to the rock, both men slowly start inching their way down the steep incline at a 45 degree angle. As they make their descent, they can hear the radio chatter continuing.

"Hey, I'm not getting anything from Disciple Four, north-ridge road. Could be a bad transmitter."

Soap stifled a laugh as he and Price steadily walk down the cliff face. _Oh they will be in for one hell of a surprise in a few minutes._ Soap thought quietly. Eventually they near the bottom, passing a pair of ventilation vents and reaching the end of the cliff face.

"Got two tangos down below." Price warned.

Directly below them are two guards at the mouth of the entrance. As both Captains of the 141 slowly step off the last of the cliff, they're rope lines slowly lower them just above the two guards. Soap and Price both slowly draw their combat knifes silently once they come to rest above their targets who are currently unaware of the presence of the two operators.

Soap grits his teeth in anticipation. No fuck ups now, he had to move swiftly, silently and surely once Price's order comes.

"Do it."

At Price's command and without hesitation, Soap drops down. He plunges the blade of his knife deep into the man's chest cavity as his other hand stifles the cry's of the man he has just stabbed. The enemy trooper's eyes are looking directly into Soap's, a look of genuine surprise clearly written in a tone that seemed to scream: _No Fuckin Way!_ A look of panic followed as he struggled in Soaps grasp and his eyes bulged. Then his eyes had that uncanny, familiar drain as life left him, his body slumping in the Captains grasp. Removing his hand from the dead man's balaclava covered mouth escaped a barely audible gasp as whatever air that was left emptied from his lungs. Soap slowly lowered the body to the ground, switching his Intervention with his silenced Vector that was kitted out with an ACOG.

Price once again takes point, the silenced SCAR-H on his back being retrieved. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Jay Lambert drew a long drink from his canteen as the rest of the platoon was debriefed outside the FOB. The Rangers of Hunter-2-1 that had worked with the reservists looked downtrodden. They were hoping to find out what had happened to their three battle brothers, but to their dismay they are left with no answers as to the disappearances of Sergeant Foley, Corporal Dunn and Private Ramirez. Their families would have to be notified, provided that there were any families to contact. With the Russian attack hitting both seaboards of the US, with the I-95 taking the first and worst hit of all it was hard to try and just hold off enemy assaults. Trying to find out what had caused the disappearance of these three Rangers would have been improbable before. Now it's an impossible task left to be an unsolved mystery.<p>

Jay made a personal pledge to try and find Foley and the two men that had gone missing with him, but it seemed that life would not be kind to anyone today; at least anyone who was an American at any rate. Jay cursed under his breath. When he joined the reserve he thought he would be able to make some sort of real impact in the world, some sort of tangible, foreseeable difference for the better. But there were days, much like today, that seemed to prove that no matter what you do there are things that you just have no control over. Some people would accept that fact of life and learn to live with it, try and change what they can and not sweat the things they can't. Unfortunately for Jay he was an idealist, and a stubborn one at that. To him, he wanted to change the world, even a decent sized corner of it if failing that. He wanted to help people. Today he couldn't even find three Rangers, so he believed that he failed that task miserably.

After pausing to muddle over his thoughts for a while, he found himself staring at his canteen. He didn't know why. To find some sort of hidden answer that the universe will show him if he just looked hard enough? Or maybe just to distract from the fact he felt like a pile of Grade A garbage? Like he was a wash out. Or maybe it was just the only thing he could think of to do now.

His thoughts slowly turn to his older brother Keith. He wonders if his older bro ever felt like Jay was at this very moment, if either on that grim, faithful day that big brother Keith was drummed out of Delta or even before that. He wondered if Keith had gone though the same feeling of failure and loss of direction. If he did, Jay didn't blame him... or at least now. After Keith got kicked out of the service for whatever went down to get himself drummed out, he and Jay had a serious falling out. Jay was planning to follow in his older brother's footsteps and enlist, though he admitted that at the time he wasn't as physically fit as he was now. He wasn't fat or otherwise overweight; he just had low stamina and energy and looked pale and sickly looking. Before enlisting in the reserve, the most exercise he got was getting out of bed for breakfast at and heading off to a park that was a block away to just loiter with friends and smoke weed. And though he went through the motions to distract himself from his many problems and short comings, he somehow had felt that he wasn't living up to his potential. That he was squandering time in his life better spent doing something else, something meaningful and fulfilling.

It wasn't until his older brother Keith, who had served in the military for a solid five years, applied for and had earned a position as a member of Delta, often called "D-boys" by others in the Spec-Op's community, that Jay had seriously considered a career, either in full or in part, in the United States Military. Be all you can be, fight for the American Dream, to protect freedom, see and change the world, the whole romantic song and dance the recruitment officer sold to him when he first walked into the front door, though at that point he didn't need the whole pitch. However because at the time he wasn't in top physical form to even join either Mechanized Infantry or Regular Infantry, he enlisted in the National Guard, the Reserve Force of the USA. He became a citizen soldier. The reinforcements and Americas last stand men and women. And it certainly did change him for the better, he had to admit that. But he didn't want to stop at changing himself into a better human being. He wanted to reach out and do more for the world around him. And whatever strength he drew he drew it from his Older Brother, who by that time had become part of the elite in the military community, one of the best, brightest, the smartest and most disciplined warriors on the planet.

So when Keith knocked on Jay's door wearing his combat pants and a disheveled standard issue T-shirt, as pail as a sheet, stumbling through the door like a zombie and advancing to the kitchen where he proceeded to raid Jay's fridge and drink two twelve packs that Jay had been saving for a welcome home party, all the while with two men in full dress uniforms standing on the front porch, everything Jay had seen in his brother, the career soldier of a Delta Unit, in his prime and the source of Jay's motivation and inspiration, was turned upside-down, the pedestal that Jay had placed his older brother on had started to crumble like it was made of cheap plaster.

Like so many family and friends, he had asked what had happened. What could have been so serious that Keith would be facing a military trial alongside both his CO and six men in his squad? Keith kept silent for the most part, both for the fact it was an Op that was off the grid and secondly because he didn't want to talk about it. Jay was the only one out of anyone else who was able to even get a hint of what it could be. The closest that Jay was able to read out from his older brother was that something bad went down on the Op. And judging how Keith's Commanding Officer was given a life sentence in a military prison and the rest of the squad either given dishonorable discharge or reassigned, Jay figured it was pretty damn bad. Keith was unfortunate enough to receive dishonorable discharge, and that crushed the former Delta operator. Jay tried to pry for more information, to understand, maybe even help if he could, but he was either ignored, pushed away or yelled at. Once he was met with full bear can to the head during a session of questioning that got pretty heated. Jay could see his older bro slowly start to come apart. Without Delta he was without direction, purpose or motivation. Keith became a lost soul. Jay tried to get his brother into a civilian job: working a supermarket till, a job at McDonald's, two weeks at a Construction job. But those didn't pan out.

The closest Keith was able to do that fit well with his past skill set was find work as a Police Officer for a year, but he had a bad habit of using unnecessary, excessive force, and finally had to be let go. There have been cases of soldiers leaving the military and finding work in either the police force or SAWT, but most were able to restrain themselves in dealing with most civilian subjects, Keith didn't. Wither he just wasn't able to or if he chose not to was unclear. Jay found it depressing and frustrating. After trying to motivate his brother, for once, he finally gave up. After the fiasco with the Police Force that finally broke the camel's back, Jay blew up at his brother. Keith blew up back. Then came the huge fight that broke out in the whole parking lot in front of the police station that required three officers, two detectives and an off duty SWAT officer to break up after about fifteen minutes. Though Jay wasn't sure if it was fifteen or twenty, he's sure he might have blacked out at some point. He did know he did only marginally better then the cops at trying to subdue his brother. Which was saying a lot...or probably less that a bit. He wasn't sure about which on that either.

They didn't speak much or see each other after that for quite some time. After two years of not talking, Jay tried to extend the proverbial olive branch, though he found that fixing a burned bridge required a lot of work. Another year later of making an effort, despite the recommendations of everyone else, there was no longer any bad blood, but there was instead a rather large gap now between them. Jay would call every five months for about five minutes, see if Keith was alright, and see how he was doing. Keith would either reply with "I'm okay, all things considered." or "Could be worse." But it sounded sort of numb when he spoke. And for a long time Jay didn't know of any other solution to the problem, other than to just keep contact.

Then there was that day that seemed too good to be true. Something surprising, but also suspicious: The surprising was when Keith actually had called Jay, which up till that point had never happened. For the first time in years, there was life in his voice, excitement, passion, ranting about some awesome news and a second chance. Jay asked what had happened and why Keith called. Then came the suspicious part: Keith went on about being given an opportunity at go back out in the field. To go back to the life he had before the tribunal. Something gnawed at Jay about this, something warning him deep in his gut, but with his bro now actually talking to him, shooting the shit with him like they did in the past, the brotherly bond seemingly restored, he didn't care, at least not much. He congratulated his brother, but that feeling made him tell his brother to be careful, to which Keith promised he would. Before hanging up Keith then told Jay that he probably wouldn't get another call in a few months due to the assignment he was given, but promised once it was over he would phone back.

These memories steadily played in Jay's mind, his brow furrowing at the hard times and a grin forming at one corner of his mouth at the good times. His face settled on a dull, expressionless look at the thoughts of that time Keith initiated a call for the first time, at last turning to a look of deep, confused thought. Why was he thinking about his brother at a time like this? All this stuff going on: the invasion, the Ranger's disappearing, the weird light, all of it. Weren't those issues more pressing? He sighed and rested his chin in his hand. Maybe he just needed a good rest to clear his head; probably too much stuff rattling around in the folds of his brain.

* * *

><p>After silently taking out the patrol that stood in their way just moments ago, Ghost silently motions towards the right flank, directing Roach to move up to a rock formation. He then moves up himself and takes cover alongside him. Both men then turn to their six and gesture Gertrud forward, though now they address her as Valkyrie. A callsign they have chosen to call her by. Popping up from some low lying shrubbery, the young witch now named Valkyrie advances towards them and takes cover in between them once at the rock formation. Ghost momentarily glances around the side of the trios cover for any more hostile contacts, and so far it seemed clear, though if he had to wager it probably won't last like that for long. Having dropped two patrols so far it won't be long before Shadow Company HQ would radio them and realize that something's up when they don't respond, as clearly demonstrated when Price and Soap took out Disciple-4 Oxide. It won't be long until the enemy realizes that the 141 was making its play.<p>

_Another three hundred meters to our designated rally point left._ Ghost thought quietly.

No more time to dawdle, but also no room to screw up. A requirement of perfectly balance timing, swiftness and decisions would either make or break them. He turns to Roach and "Valkyrie" and whispers an order.

"Alright you two, we're getting close to where we need to be, follow me, keep low and keep quiet. These guys are trained just like 141, we just have the element of surprise at the moment but that's going to be gone pretty quick. Once it is they'll hit us hard with everything they've got and then some. Either we seize the initiative or we wind up deader than ducks getting sucked into a jet engine."

Roach turns to Gertrud and makes a clever quip at the Lieutenant's statement. "And believe me that's pretty damn dead... and messy."

"Thanks a lot, now I have something else to keep me up at night." Gertrud replies in a sarcastic deadpan.

Ghost silently signals for the three of them to move forward, taking point with Roach and Gertrud following suit. After a minute they spot and quickly take cover behind the side of a tent. Leaning out of cover a bit Ghost notices two men about ten feet away looking towards the ridge. Only problem is there could be men inside the tent. Ghost gestures for Roach to check the tent while Ghost indicated he would take out the two men on sentry duty. Roach took point and inched his way to the front of the ten while Ghost moved around the back, while Gertrud was told to stay put.

She felt like she was being excluded from the mission at hand. She was often given orders to carry out actions to eliminate enemy targets, but she wasn't used to being ordered to do nothing. The first impressions she had about serving as a soldier in this world was still difficult to ascertain. She pushed these thoughts aside quickly and opted to watch, observe and learn from both Ghost and Roach.

Ghost got into position; he took aim at both of the sentries, while Roach got up right next to the open end of the tent. They had to do this smoothly. There had to be absolutely no margins for error here. Ghost breathed steadily, getting the target in the ACOG sights of his silenced ACR directly on the tango on the left, ready to put rounds on him and to shift quickly to the next man.

"Roach, now."

As Roach moved to clear out the inside of the tent, Ghost popped four rounds into the first man, then five in the second, the silenced rounds striking the targets with deadly accuracy as the ACR made a barely audible chitter. He hears a sound akin to an automatic BB-gun from the other side of the tent, indicating Roach found someone inside to neutralize with his silenced TAR-21.

"Got two down sir." Roach reports in a low whisper.

"Roger. Two down on my end as well, let's keep it going."

"Will I get my chance to contribute, Ghost?" Gertrud asks.

"Soon, just be patient, luv." Ghost promised.

"I just hope I can... do this..." Gertrud's voice becomes hesitant and shaky. Ghost could hear the self-doubt that she was trying to hide. Hoping to boost her morale, he laughs softly and gives her assurance.

"When the time comes you'll do fine. Just remember your training and let it take over."

"...right.

* * *

><p>Keith was standing idly by the steam room, casually resting on the rock wall with his gaze shifting out to the walls of the cave, down towards the weapons cache and to each of the two other men of Butcher Seven, Corporal Vincent and Lieutenant Barns. How long has it been for him since he last worked out in the field? It felt like forever. But now, now felt good. Hell it felt more than good. Life in the service was all he ever knew, and now he was back in the saddle. A few times he thought he was dreaming, and that he'd wake up back home on the couch with a stack of beer on the floor and the television switched on to Jay Leno or something. But here and now, he knew it was real. He was back on the line, fighting for his country. And he knew that his country needed him more than ever, with Russian's invading it on all sides he needed to do whatever it took to take the enemy down, to route them out.<p>

Mostly he ran training regimens and the pit with the other guys to stay at the top of their game. He and the other men of Shadow Company were formed and trained while cloaked in shadow, to keep everyone from knowing their existence, hence the name of the unit. Built from the ground up and specific personnel handpicked from active duty, off duty, retired and even a few cases of those who were "let go" from service, from several SPEC-OP units in the United States Military, the Shadow Company was Shepherds personal security detail, operations force and strong arm. When he was picked to serve with this unit and his country, Keith thought he was in some sort of lucid dream. He always wished for a chance to get back into the military after what had happened... but he didn't dare dream it could be possible.

Though he had to admit it wasn't exactly what he had expected; then again there were a lot of unexpected things in his life. Keith thought he was going to be headed back to serving in Delta, but he was surprised that he was told he would be serving for a new, experimental Black Op Unit under the command of General Shepherd. Keith and the others in Shadow Company were trained to follow any orders given by Shepherd without question or hesitation. Every order carried out and action made was in the interest and protection of the United States and its people. All Intel would be on a need to know basis and would be followed to the letter. Even when Shadow Company was given orders to eliminate not only Makarov's men but the operators of Task Force 141, Keith and the other Shadow Company troopers followed those orders. They did their jobs without a second thought; it wasn't their job to question orders, just to follow them.

It wasn't the first time that Keith Lambert was given difficult orders to follow. He recalled way back during the Op that had brought him here in the first place. Back in Delta the men he worked with were some of the best you could ask for. Well trained, hard as nails and overall badasses among badasses, the men he served with did their jobs and did them well. The only major issue was occasional personality conflicts that turned up now and again, but that sort of things happens. Sometimes people have differing views, opinions and ideals and there was little that could change that. And Delta, while being known for producing some pretty hardcore Operators, was often seen as loosely disciplined cowboys. Not out of any sort of laziness or contempt of regulation, though he was sure some people thought those were the case; it was simply because they had to often blend in with local populations to get to their target objectives, and that required more pliable mannerisms and routines. Keith didn't realize however that this fact combined with grinding outlooks on what two people consider right or wrong would result in an utter and complete nightmare of epic proportions..

His team was given the Task of taking out a warlord piggy backing off the support of drug-smugglers and arms dealers who was said to have ties to some possible terrorist cell and held up in a small village out in the southern most regions of Iran. They were given the job of determining wither or not there was a connection and if so, to terminate the target in question. There were problems right from the start, shoddy Intel, poor weather for UAV's and no Armour, artillery or air support plus add to the fact that there was interference on their comms that rendered them useless so the Delta team had to go in blind. So when they infiltrated and tried to get Intel they were discovered and had got into heavy fighting with high collateral damage. Long story short, the whole village was wiped out and it turned out their target had no connection to any terrorist cell. He was just an opportunist who got too greedy. At that point the men were obviously in a state of panic, trying to figure out what they should do about the whole cluster-fuck.

The CO, a rather young but talented Captain out of west point who went by the name of Quin, Code named "Sidewinder", decided that silence was golden. Say nothing about what actually happened and that the target wiped out the village or some other story that would seem plausible. First Sergent Zek, call sign "Samuri" however, was a man of unshakable honesty and honor, the type of man who would rather fall on his own sword then betray his conscience. They had always had differing viewpoints on the calls made out in the field and while they put their differences aside out in the field, they butt heads quite a bit in the barracks. While there was noticeable friction, they had their shit squared away when it came to operation in the battle space. At least until that day...

They got into it, a major discussion between CO and 2IC that slowly grew worse and worse with each passing second. Sidewinder wasn't going to lose his rank and get stuck in a military prison. Samurai wasn't going to lie or otherwise hide the truth and chose to own up for his actions, wanted the rest of the guys to do the same. Sidewinder was in clear disagreement as he stuck a single 5.56 round from his M16A4 directly between Samurai's eyes. He then threatened if anyone else was in disagreement then they'd also get a round in them, explaining that they would all face court-martials if the truth came out. Everyone in the squad was surprised, shocked or just left wondering what the hell just happened. As for Keith... he accepted and followed the Captains explanations and orders without question. He was the first one to suggest that Captain Quin was right and that they should keep it quiet, and while a few were hesitant, they complied. From what he saw, Keith figured perhaps it was best that this one blemish could be overlooked and he can continue to serve his country. When the brass found out the truth after about five months of investigation, Quin was brought down quicker than a jumbo jet with no wings over the Bermuda Triangle and shipped off to be locked up for the rest of his natural life and Keith was busted down to size and drummed out for "disgracing the uniform." And from there it was all downhill and facing a few years drifting aimlessly through life in pathetic misery.

But now things were as they should. The more things change the more they stay the same...

"Vinson, Lambert!" Lambert hears his name being called and hustles up to Lieutenant Barns with Vincent following suit.

"What's up LT?"

"HQ lost contact with Disciple Five. They think it's either the sand storm or a bad transmitter but in either event they haven't called in. They want to send a team to check and see what's happening on their end, so I'm delegating that job to you two. Take the Corporal and see what's going on with Disciple Five, understood Lambert?"

"Understood, we'll go see what's up."

"Good. I'll keep watch here and perform a radio check, I expect you both to call back in seven mikes."

"Will do sir."

With that, Sergeant Keith Lambert escorts Corporal Vincent out of the steam room and down a flight of stairs, rifles in hand and their tac-lights on. Without lights or NVG's it was near impossible to see where you were going. The lights on the ceiling were too damn dim for his liking, and Keith hated bring stuck in cramped quarters while in the dark. To him it was just asking for trouble. As they both continue down the stairs Vincent poses a question.

"Hey, what do you think is up the guys in Disciple Five?"

"Dunno, guess we're goanna find out."

The conversation ends as they reach the last flight of stairs. Both of them clear the hall and proceed forward. Keith was a man who wanted nothing more than to serve his country. He wanted to have his boots on the line to do what was needed and make the tough choices to ensure the survival of a nation. He served giving everything his 110%, and he followed his orders when they were given to him. Only once had he thought and wondered if he was right in carrying out his orders and completing his missions, and what his family and Jay would think if they knew, but afterwards he rationalized that it was necessary. That he was doing his duty as a soldier.

As he took seven steps from the stairs with Vincent to his Left, their taclights sweeping the cave walls and floor, expecting to find out just what was going on with the men of Disciple Five, silenced rounds jumped out from somewhere in the darkness ahead of them, felling first the Corporal and then Keith. These were the last thoughts of Keith Lambert as his lifeless body crumpled to the floor.

* * *

><p>"Clear, go."<p>

From out of the gloom of the cave Price and Soap advance forward, emerging from the blackness that permeated the cave, stepping over the bodies of the lifeless men they had dropped and up the stairs; steadily getting closer to their objective, closer to Shepherd, and after this, just yet another step closer to setting things right. As they move they can still hear the HQ comms officer still talking to the other Shadow Company Squads, confusion in his voice over what has been happening to the unresponsive squads. Although he requested for a team to check out what has been happening, apparently he's now getting worried, now calling another element to reinforce the two men Soap and Price figure were just sent, which they had both neutralized.

"Disciple Six, we've lost all contact with Disciple Five. Check it out, over."

Price glances up to the top of the stairs and notices a guard with his back to them, an AA-12 slung over his back while in the middle of a radio check. Price motions up with his head at the tango.

"Top of the staircase- he's mine."

Price quietly inches towards the man that's currently unaware of their presence and plunges his knife deep into the man's neck. After making the kill, Price leads Soap into the steam room and towards a weapons cache resting on a rock wall. After skimming through all the weapons, Soap casts away his silenced Intervention and retrieves a silenced ACR with a red-dot sight, Heartbeat Sensor and a digital pattern, shouldering the silenced Vector on his back. The Captains then hear the voice of the Disciple Six squad leader reply to the radio officer on the comm frequency as they both take defensive positions.

"Roger that Oxide, we're on the catwalk, heading to the steam room. Standby."

They once again hear a call from Shadow Company HQ, only now speaking in heightened urgency.

"Disciple Six, go dark, breach and clear."

"Here we go - get ready." Price cautions.

The dim lights in the steam room suddenly switch off one by one, engulfing the intrepid pair in darkness. Both men of the 141 know very well that Shadow Company suspects trouble, and is considering the possibility that the base site is compromised. So they are initiating a lock down and going dark. Soap places the Night Vision Goggles on his head down over his eyes and ready's his weapon. Price opts to use the thermal sight on his SCAR-H, taking aim at the left flank of a corridor that likely loops around the steam room to the entrance way in an alternate route, he figures it was possibly a maintenance corridor. The two men are prepared to engage.

"Wonderful, I'm starting to get a bit restless. Ghost, are you guys in position?" Soap asks.

"Another five seconds to get into position, but we're more or less ready."

"Good, because it's going to get pretty loud down here."

As Soap finishes speaking both him and Price hear the sounds of clanking echoing through the subterranean passage, figuring that Disciple Six is planting charges on the wall. The voice of the Disciple six squad leader confirms this, being responded to by HQ.

"Door charge planted. Ready to breach."

"Hit it."

"Breaching, breaching!"

The explosion reverberates throughout the steam room, bits of stone and rocks being blown into the cave and flooding the room with sunlight from the outside. Also flooding in are the men of Disciple Six, now starting to clear the Steam room, splitting off into two elements at the squad leader's command, the squad leader gesturing from left to right.

"Foxtrot Element, sweep left. Charlie Element, scan around the area."

At last the old man gives Soap the order. "Go loud; open fire!"

Soap and Price fire a short burst at their respective targets. The two men on point go down, officially alerting the enemy squad to their presence. The squad leader's voice echoes through the cave over the reports of automatic fire. Shadow Company laser sights dance wildly for a moment and then sweep through the steam room with rounds soon following.

"They're here! Open fire!"

Price, Soap and the men of Disciple Six engage each other. With determination in his voice, the squad leader of Disciple Six gives his men one last word of advice as his men advanced to engage the men of the Task Force.

"Stay frosty, hunt them down!"

* * *

><p>Ghost, Roach and Gertrud take up positions on the cliff overlooking the catwalk, using some low lying shrubs for cover. The trio hear the reports of gunfire from off to the right flank down below. It drags out for about three minutes, until finally dying down. After such a period of intense gunfire there is only silence. Ghost, Roach and Gertrud inch out to the edge of the cliff face and peak to the direction of where the gun fire had been last heard.<p>

Roach glances nervously to Ghost. "Are they-"

"Wait for it mate."

Three second later, as if on cue, comes the voice of Captain John Price. "Move."

Ghost smiles. "See, nothing to it for those two blokes."

Roach is in impressed awe. "Sweeeeet!~"

"Amazing." Gertrud utters in astonishment. After having so many men sent upon them, she was in awe of the fact that both Captains' had routed the enemy squad. It was here she had little doubt in their abilities and skill in combat.

"If you think that's something, you're in luck, it gets better. Watch." Ghost quipped.

The voice of the radio officer at HQ utters a report to another Shadow Company unit in a tone that sounded like the man was speaking in barley contained panic, clearly shaken from the handy work of Captain's Price and MacTavish.

"Disciple Nine, your rear guard just flatlined!"

"Not possible. We just cleared that area. Nobody's that g –"

"It's Price." A familiar voice interrupts the man in Disciple Nine. "Backup priority items and burn the rest. Fireteams just delay 'em until we're ready to pull out."

Ghost and Roach stiffen and glance at each other, knowing full well who it was. The man that the 141 came to kill: General Shepherd.

Both men's eyes quickly darken as they ready their weapons.

"It's him." Roach mutters.

"Too right mate. We're going to get that bastard."

"I just hope the Captain's leave us a piece of that fucking twat."

"Plenty to go around just keep your focus. Fucker will get his soon enough."

"Are you both okay?" Gertrud inquires. It's the first time she could see such a wild, angry look in the eyes of both men. Ghost's eye's shift to the left of the catwalk, a cold look printed into them.

"We will be, just stay frosty."

From below they see Price moving onto the Catwalk with MacTavish following close behind. Price gestures over to a particular pile of weapons. "Grab a riot shield...we'll need cover out here." He goes prone as Soap takes point and grabs a riot shield to serve as a distraction. Price then speaks to Ghost. "Ghost, once the enemy engage have Valkyrie give Soap suppressing fire, have her keep their heads down while I pick them off."

"Will do, I'll let her have her fun." Ghost turns to Gertrud and nods emphatically. "You're up on the 240 luv. You see them, give MacTavish suppressing fire and don't let em breath. It's all you."

"R-roger." Before she can get her weapon ready however, she hears the sound of something that sounded like a very loud jet striker flying through the airspace, followed by the low drone of what sounded like prop driven aircraft. Looking up, she sees two grey, fast moving aircraft flying low over the canyon, with a wing of around five black aircraft slowly flying in formation. Higher in the sky she notices the silhouette of a small airborne object that she at first mistakes for a Neuroi until her eye's focus on it. It was too small to be a manned aircraft, and she was left wondering what it was.

A new voice is heard speaking into the comm. on the Shadow Company frequency. "Oxide, Avatar One. We have unauthorized personnel on the catwalk. I repeat, we have unauthorized personnel on the catwalk- you gettin' this?"

Gertrud turns sharply to Ghost in surprise. "They know where the Captain's are? But how? !"

Ghost speaks in a matter of fact tone. "UAV, an unmanned aerial vehicle: eye in the sky." His eyes dart briefly to the tiny silhouette flying high up above their heads. "Good for spotting ground targets, like us."

"The fast movers a moment ago are F15's, the slow black rotor craft are Blackhawks." Roach quickly chirps.

Just as Gertrud finishes nodding an acknowledgement the UAV operator Avatar One makes another observation as the UAV starts to circle overhead.

"Oxide, Avatar One; be advised we have another three tangos on the cliff face overlooking the catwalk. I say again, we have hostiles on the high ground, watch your heads!"

"This is Oxide; we have no line of sight on the three hostiles, what is their exact location over?"

Roach sighs. "So much for the element of surprise..."

"Soap, take point with the riot shield. Valkyrie and I will take care of any resistance." Price instructs sternly. "Ghost and Roach, you two watch the lasses back."

"Gladly sir." Ghost responds.

Soap advances with the Riot shield along the cat walk, slowly and steadily pushing his way forward. Two squads of Shadow Company Soldiers quickly take position on the far end of the catwalk and begin to put rounds down on the shielded Task Force Captain. Rounds bounced, ricocheted or are all together stopped by the bullet resistant ballistic shield that protected Soap from being felled. Clearly seen is Soap struggling to advance under heavy gunfire.

Price steadily starts dropping targets with his SCAR-H, one by one men of Shadow Company start to fall. Gertrud hesitated firing for just two seconds until she unleashed a storm of lead from her M240, 7.62 rounds stitch their way across the enemy's side of the Cat walk, tagging a few men and temporarily pushing them back. Chatter over Shadow Company comms increased in traffic as the 141 let their presence become known to all.

"Oxide, Disciple Nine, we've got hostile contact approximately 50 meters from the nest, over."

"Terminate with extreme prejudice. All personnel - be advised, we have two enemy foot-mobiles on the catwalk heading to the crow's nest, in addition to three on the cliff face above the catwalk by the waterfall."

Gertrud felt the M240 thud heavily against her shoulder as both she and Price felled enemy troops like wheat. The enemy soldiers seemed to be advancing thoughtlessly into incoming fire, ignoring their fallen comrades as they sought to kill the men of the Task Force. She couldn't tell if the enemy was both focused and well disciplined or if they were just cold and unfeeling. Her first kill back at the safe house was the hardest. But for some reason, here, it didn't seem nearly as hard or as difficult. Her first three kills on the catwalk were made in hesitation, but after that the trigger started to come down a lot easier. Was she starting to get used to this strange feeling? The feeling of ending a human life? If she was, she wasn't able to think about it, she realized that her rate of fire had slowed while lost in thought and picked up the slack, increasing the rate of fire down range. After a while the men stopped coming as Soap reach the far end of the catwalk, towards the Crows nest. As Price and Soap move up, Price gave Ghost instructions.

"Ghost, the three of you displace and hit Shepherds men from the high ground. Move into position over the Crows nest, give them hell and then some."

"Roger that, shifting position." Ghost picks himself up onto his feet. "You heard the man, let's go."

The trio are quickly moving parallel with Soap and Price as Shepherds men start trying to intercept the Task Force. As the trio take positions on the high ground they notice one of the Blackhawks from earlier approach and hover over the crow's nest as Price and MacTavish press forward, eliminating two men that were held up in the crow's nest with a pair of well thrown grenades. Ghost motions to the Blackhawk as ropes unravel beneath the aircraft, a clear sign that the troops inside are going to fast rope down to the hard deck.

"Gretrud, use your RPG on that Blackhawk, take em down before they can droop troops on us!"

"Roger!" Gertrude retrieves the RPG on her back and takes aim at the Blackhawk, her sight picture acquired as five men begin roping down. Once she depressed the trigger the rocket screeches forth and smacks into the tail rotor. Only three men from the Blackhawk touchdown, two men in mid repel lose their grip of the ropes and plummet to the ground below as the helicopter spins out of control, steadily losing altitude. The Blackhawk pilot radios a mayday as it slowly crashes off into the ravine; Gertrud takes a rocket being held in a carrying rig on her back and loads it with some difficulty. The only rocket weapons she had ever used was one instance she had used Panzerfaust rockets on a Neuroi, and they were the older, disposable types that were fielded early on in the war. In that particular case she just fired them and tossed aside the spent tube. She wasn't familiar with reusable rocket weapons like Sanya was.

Down in the nest, Soap and Price engage the three tangos that roped down successfully, once of them holding a riot shield and MP5. Both men use the terrain and some crates in the nest for cover, engaging the three Shadow Company troopers while avoiding enemy fire. It got intense but a pair of Flahsbangs followed by a frag makes quick work of the enemy troops. With the nest cleared, the two operators move forward into a cave with a hole in the ceiling where yet another Blackhawk was hovering. More Shadow Company Soldiers started roping down.

"Butcher Two roping into sector Papa Quebec!" Another Shadow Company squad reporting to their comrades.

Gertrud is quick to react, aiming and firing the RPG at the Second Blackhawk that is starting to drop troops to intercept Price and Soap. The rocket impacts the fuselage; the whole aircraft bursting into a fireball, the resulting wreckage plummeted into the ground below. With the Blackhawks down the advance will be faster and there will be less hostile troops to deal with. However, the cave below was steadily filling with smoke from smoke charges and smoke grenades that Shadow Company had begun deploying. Shepherds men were smart, concealing themselves from the Task Force. As Soap tossed aside the riot shield, rounds started to stitch their way into the cave wall beside him. He took cover behind some heavy crates and steel drums. He checks the Heartbeat sensor on the ACR he had picked up and counted about thirty dots downrange. He cursed silently, that would be a lot of tangos to take down.

"They're using thermal through the smoke!" Price warned. He then noticed through the smoke with his own thermal sight that troopers were taking cover or moving cautiously around their right flank. "They're digging in, Shepherd must be close! We have to break through! I'll draw their fire through the smoke! Soap, watch for flanking routes!"

Price continues engaging troops on the far side of the cave, while Soap flanks right and counters against any troops that try to flank the two operators. But with both sides dug in, Ghost realizes that they need to break the stalemate. Price is the only one with a thermal sight, and Shepherds men are more than equipped for fighting in a smoke screen. He gestures over from the enemy position to Gertrud.

"Valkyrie, switch back to your 240. Suppress everything that Price and Soap are shooting at."

Gertrud squinted into the smoke cloud. "How, I can't see anything!"

"Don't need to, just keep their heads down so Price and MacTavish can do the heavy hitting."

"Roger." Gertrude takes position at the edge of the hole overlooking the firefight and braces herself. Taking hold of the side mounted grip, gritting her teeth and squeezing the trigger, Gertrud sweeps the entire enemy side with automatic fire in a long volley from left to right. She isn't sure if she is hitting anything, but so long as she doing her part to help this squad of men, the men of Task Force 141, then she is doing her duty as a soldier. And for now that would have to do.

* * *

><p>Minna had just got off the phone from Allied Headquarters. She wore a stern face; things aren't going to be working out easily in the foreseeable future. Today had turned out to be working up to be a disaster: an incident occurred between Krupke and the five men from the other world (which she predicted would happen), that Gertrud was taken hostage and taken into the other world with Ghost and Roach, and the Ranger's we're now Krupke's prisoners. And those were the just the start of today's problems. At first she didn't know what to think, but once the Heartmann sisters had informed her and the Major of the details she started to worry. She had known that Krupke was going to be a handful, but she didn't expect that he would be quite so blatant in his intentions. And word from HQ wasn't going to be of much help; apparently someone else has been supporting Krupke from over at HQ, though the who is uncertain. It was difficult enough fighting Neuroi but Minna also had to battle obstructive officers. She didn't know which was the most tiring.<p>

She sighed heavily, recalling that Krupke had come from a long line of military men, all the way before the first war. The Krupke name was recognized as a name of absolute authority and military achievement from a very, very large family. Many Krupke's who had served done so with vigor that few could rival, known for its heroes and brilliant tacticians. But because of this they have also been shown much favouritism from back home in the Fatherland. And from this favoritism came arrogance. Later generations of the Krupke family had become privileged to the point that many who went into service had been given many favours that they barley worked for or not at all. They were given positions and honors that Minna believed that they shouldn't have got; at least not for such lofty reasons as solely because they carried the Krupke name. She believed such honors had to be earned with hard work and though one's actions, not given on a whim. And the Krupke family got away with far too much in the military, the fact they were such a well known military family had allowed them to do things that other, lesser soldiers would have faced court-martial or worse. Many civilians would be surprised at what well known military family's can get away with. Ekkehard Krupke was the worst offender in this regard. It wasn't right, but even so it happened regardless.

Minna also noticed that the Krupke family for the most part was conventional military. She knew Ekkehard Krupke lead conventional fighting men against Neuroi threats and conventional men only, and had a no witch's policy to the personnel that he commanded directly under him. He commanded conventional forces only, and was one of the few who chose to willingly do so. A few times he was forced to work with witch units and at first tried to mask his bias, but as the wars dragged on, out in the field his contempt slowly grew more apparent. While his conventional fighting men were the best that Karlsland could produce, other units with witches that had to work alongside him for combined operations found him to be an unnecessarily harsh task master. Witches and the men they worked alongside that weren't under his direct command but fought alongside him in battle received more dangerous jobs and engagements and suffered severe casualties. But because of this, Krupke and his men were left to strike final blows against the enemy and take the credit. The Krupke's were not fond of witches, and Ekkehard was the most biased against witches. In fact there was only one witch in the entire Keupke family and she was disowned by the family as a whole, shunned for her magic gifts and ability's.

The wise wing commander Minna Wilcke knew how silly, foolish and stupid this unmitigated prejudice against witches by Ekkehards family was. This hatred ran so deep that it compelled them to disown one of its own, simply because she had a gift that came from within, all they saw it was something that betrayed those who serve in the military, those that they believed deserved better. That it was an affront to soldiers and humanity. Minna couldn't understand such thinking. And she didn't try to. What she did do is learn of those in the military who had the most clout and renown, those who held high positions and performed well in the line of duty. Or in this case, those who chose to exercise the power they had for their own interests. Knowledge was power. And Minna was going to muster every inch of it to find a solution to this problem.

* * *

><p>After a few minutes of intense fighting Price and MacTavish had cleared the cave of hostile contacts held for Ghost, Roach and the young witch they had been addressing as "Valkyrie" to rope down to meet with the captains using a length of rope that Roach was carrying. Once they had regrouped they advanced on the control room. A Shadow Company soldier saw them approach and quickly closed the door, locking it in a bid to keep the Task Force from entering. Over Shadow Company Comms the Task Force could hear the men reporting that they had a severed det-cord and needed time to fix it, but the reply to them was that "Gold Eagle" wanted it done in three mikes.<p>

"They've sealed the control room. Get a frame charge on the door!"

Soap silently nods and places a breaching charge of the door. The four men quickly take up positions on either end of the door, ready to breach and clear the control room. Price and Soap noticed that Gertrud was just standing and staring at them with confusion. Price frowned, wondering what was wrong with her.

"What's the matter, why are you just standing there?"

Ghost sighs "I don't think she knows about breaching and clearing rooms Captain Price."

"You're joking." Soap groaned.

"Never mind." Price snapped. He turned to Gertrud and gestured over to Ghost. "Take up position behind Ghost. Once this door charge goes off move when he dose and kill anything inside. Understood?"

"I understand." Gertrud quickly gets into position behind Ghost and in front of Roach in the line up. Roach gives her some advice as she squeezes between him and Ghost.

"Keep it tight Trude, it's going to get loud."

"I'll do my best." She replies evenly. Once she's in position Price glances to everyone at the door.

"Everyone ready?" he asks. Everyone responds in the affirmative and Price gives Soap the go-ahead to blow the door. "Blow it."

Soap presses the detonator, blowing open the door. Soap moves quickly forward with Ghost Following suit with Gertrud, Price and Soap close behind. They are met with a squad of six enemy troopers that are scrambling to take out the Task Force. Soap drops a soldier as he charges him with a knife. Ghost notices a Shadow Company trooper Toss an ACR to one of his comrades, the Lieutenant manages to pump the rest of his clip into him as the rifle leaves his hand. The trooper that was tossed the rifle catches it and quickly takes aim, but Price pops a round into his cheek, the round severing his spinal column at the head, his nervous system unable to obey the last orders from his brain to shoot. Roach and Gertrud noticed two men jumping to action at the far side of the room, but are quickly dispatched by the young pair. Once the room is clear, they can see that Shepherds still nowhere to be found. But what's worse is that the entire room is lined with explosives. Every inch of the room is filled from top to bottom with C4 and other assortments of ordinance. Gertrud's mouth drops and Roach curses. If any of them had fired one stray bullet it would have been the end of them. Shortly they hear Shepherds voice over the base PA system.

"All units be advised this is Gold Eagle. The site has been compromised. I am executing directive one-one-six bravo. If you're still inside, your service will be honored. Shepherd out."

"What the hell does that mean? What's he talking about?" Gertrud asks.

Price ignores her and dashes towards a control board, giving an order to Soap. "Override the door controls! Hurry!"

"On it!" Soap quickly gets to the second set of door controls and both men start typing like mad men.

"What's happening? !" Gertrud demands.

"You see all this explosive?" Ghost asks her sardonically.

Roach looks to her with his hand raised in a clenched fist. He makes an exploding noise and opens his hand in a sudden motion. Her face paled. Shepherd intended to blow them up. She gulped as her eyes traveled through the room that was set to blow up. This General was well prepared for the 141.

Ghost nodded. "That's right. Shepherd was expecting us, so he now expects to blow us to bits."

Soap and Price spend another few seconds typing in codes to open the heavy set doors in the far side of the room. Seconds tick by and the tension is so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Gertrud wondered what could have been taking the Captain's so long. Finally the doors open and Price shouts orders to the squad while in mid stride. They had better leave before the explosives go off.

"Run!"

The squad starts to run as an alarm starts going off as they make their way through the cavern to the surface. Price continues to urge them forward.

"Keep moving! This place is gonna blow!"

Having just escaped the cave, they reach the surface just as the room behind them is engulfed in an explosion, the blast knocking everyone prone. Gertrud's vision is blurred and her ears are ringing. Shaking her head to get her bearings she turns to Roach and finds him looking dazed. Her eye's listed to the others, finding Ghost shaking his head and retrieving his sunglasses that were knocked off from the blast, while Soap was blinking and struggling to get up. Price on the other hand was already back on his feet, seemingly only slightly winded as he tags a few troopers left and right. Once the 141 get's their bearings they hear Shepherd radioing another Shadow Company Unit while more men and a Little Bird Helicopter approach the Task Force, overlooking what appeared to be the main compound.

"Excalibur, this is Gold Eagle. Fire mission - target package Romeo - danger close."

"That's within a hundred meters of your position sir!" Warned one of the men from Excalibur.

"That's not a suggestion! Send it!" Shepherd snapped.

Ghost was appalled. "Oh that crazy fucking yank! He's going to drop artillery on our heads!"

Price waved everyone back and away from the compound. "Incoming! Get down! Get down!"

Everyone scrambled as artillery fire from artillery battery Excalibur fell onto the compound, killing or wounding Shadow Company men and downing the Little bird that was caught in the blast. Gertrud had a chance to see the carnage after the artillery strike subsided and stared in horror. Craters, body-parts, wreckage and dazed, wounded survivors were everywhere. Shepherd ordered a barrage down on his own men just to kill the Task Force. He was willing to throw away the lives of his own men so casually. Even Roach seemed to have a difficult time processing the aftermath.

"How can a General do such a thing to his own men?" Gertrud asked shakily.

Price scoffed bitterly. "Since when does Shepherd care about danger close... Let's go! Stay close and follow me!" He helped Soap back up on his feet and pointed straight ahead. "To the west, Soap. Go! Everyone West, move!"

As they advanced they could see dazed and wounded Shadow Company troopers crawling away from the initial blast zone or coming to rest on the ground or against objects and derbies. They were ignored by everyone save for Gertrud and Ghost. Gertrud watched with pity and some hesitation as Ghost Coup-de-grace every man they passed. She couldn't help but feel sorry for Shadow Company at this stage. Shepherd was treating them as mere pawns, to use and then discard as he saw fit. Ghost however didn't care. He saw one less set of men to deal with to get to Shepherd. A few surviving Shadow company soldiers that were still combat effective were dispatched with little difficulty. Another pair of helicopters, another little bird with troops and a Blackhawk were fast approaching. They notice three shadow company soldiers on the far side of Site Hotel Bravo, next to another cave, with them was an old man in a beret and camouflage fatigues. The four men were making a break for the cave entrance.

"Helo's inbound!" Soap shouted.

"There's Shepherd now! Tricky bastard is getting away!" Ghost roars.

Price starts giving his men encouragement. "We can still get him 141, keep on him!"

The Task Force hears a man over Shadow Company's frequency report to General Shepherd. "Sir, sandstorm activity is picking up here. It's too risky for flight ops."

"Understood. Head for the tunnel. We'll take the Zodiacs."

"Yes sir!"

Gertrud reached again for her RPG-7 and took aim at the closest helicopter, the Little bird. It dropped six men on the ground and started to take off again, but the rocket smacked into it and the aircraft crashed back to Earth after getting ten meters from its drop off point. Price, Soap, Ghost and Roach took care of the men that were dropped off at their LZ. Gertrud loaded one last rocket and took aim at the Blackhawk as men started to rope down. She fired and the rocket blew off the tail of the helicopter, causing the fuselage to flip upside down and drop to the ground with men still inside, the fuselage crushing men who touched down onto the hard deck. Ghost tosses a frag into it to ensure that anyone still alive inside isn't for very long, an explosion and grenade fragments filling the downed helicopters fuselage. Gertrud discarded her Rocket propelled grenade launcher and was back to using her M240.

Price orders everyone after Shepperd and his three man guard detail. "Head for the tunnel! He's getting away!" They continue to the tunnel in hot pursuit of Shepherd, trying to keep up to the old American that was currently making his escape.

"Shepherd mentioned Zodiacs...there must be river access nearby - let's go!" Price could feel it now, they were getting close. Pretty soon they would be down one tango and ready to take on Makarov, providing they lived through this. They chase Shepherd and his three man detail into the cave.

Roach curses. "Damnit all, if he gets away he'll just go dark, send his men after us and we'll be as good a dead. And when that happens, nobody will know what really happened to the 141 or Shepherds role in all this bullshit. Fucking bastard!"

Captain Price sighs, recalling the transmission he made before he and Soap had begun the mission...

* * *

><p>Price is on a cell phone, trying to call a contact back home in the UK to relay to the western allies, during which he speaks with awe inducing calm as he transmits a message, an Echelon satellite in orbit tracking and analyzing his voice. "This is for the record. History is written by the victor. History is filled with liars. If he lives and we die, his truth becomes written - and ours is lost. Shepherd will be a hero. 'Cause all you need to change the world is one good lie and a river of blood. He's about to complete the greatest trick a liar ever played on history. His truth will be the truth. But only if he lives, and we die."<p>

Before his contact can reply, Price disconnects the call and flips the phone closed. They had just gotten word that Ghost and Roach were going to be enroute, so now they had their insurance. Price turns to Soap, the look on his face that the younger man could read with clear certainty. Nikolai was waiting by the door, and he too knew what Soap knew.

It was time.

* * *

><p>Shepherd moved with his Security detail through the darkness of the cave tunnel. Price and Soap were still on him and he knew it. As he ran, he clutched his chest where his left rib cage was. He was still hurting a bit from where Ghost had shot him five days ago. If Shepherd had to describe what he felt, he'd probably describe it as annoyance. Even with death on his heels, that was the most he could feel in regards to the situation. He had to sacrifice a pretty large number of men already just to kill the two men, but he had barley even slowed them down.<p>

Shepherd did recall some of the radio chatter from earlier, and apparently, Price and Soap weren't alone. Judging from the reports of some of his men before they were routed, he believed that Ghost and Roach had also joined in to have a hand at killing him. That wasn't much of a surprise in his opinion. He wasn't sure where Riley and Sanderson had disappeared to, but it was a safe bet that those two would be joining the Captains. He was intrigued at the news of a fifth person with the four men. He wondered if it was a member of the Task Force that managed to link up with Price, Soap, Ghost and Roach. Before he could think deeper into this, one of the men in his detail speaks to him.

"Sir, we have a problem, looks like all of the commotion here has alerted some OpFor elements enroot to our position. One of our birds saw a platoon sized unit heading to the river and called it in."

Shepherd huffed. "Have some of our men on foot sweep the caves near our escape route. Also, see if we have some men who can serve as reinforcements to meet up with us and chalk the birds to rally with us for support along the river."

"I'll see if we have anyone else who can hook up for our extract sir. Don't know if we can get anyone else though."

"Just get whoever you can if you plan on surviving this. Price and the others won't stop until they put rounds in us, so you better get the lead out."

"Understood, sir!"

* * *

><p>The four men and the young witch chase the fleeing general through the twists and turns of the cave. As they continue chasing Shepherd through the dark winding cave passage, Gertrud was impressed with these men that she had fought beside. She appreciated discipline, and the Task Force brimmed with it. They had a strong leader and their men were well trained and loyal. She only wished that people back home could see and learn from such an example. Far too few were lacking in far too many areas in comparison. With men on the level of the Task Force, she believed that they would be more than a match for a Neuroi, or at least a few of them at any rate.<p>

After some time running to catch up with Shepherd they come to a corner and hear the sound of an engine revving up.

"They're just around the corner, come on!"

Rounding the corner, they finally reach an underground river with a small dock meeting the water. They can see Shepherd and his men pull away in a F470 Combat Rubber Raiding Craft type Zodiac, with Price attempting to pop a few rounds at them and failing to hit. Price hauls ass to another F470 Zodiac and leaps aboard.

"Everyone get on the boat!"

Gertrud stops at the dock and looks at the 4.7 meter long by 1.9 meter wide CRRC as Soap follows the old man's lead. The craft they were sitting in wasn't very large and didn't appear very sea worthy, at least as far as she could see. She wasn't sure what it was made of but she had doubts about hopping into it.

"This is a boat? This thing? Are you serious?"

"Like a heart attack, come on luv." Ghost grabs Gertrud by her tactical vest and tosses her into the inflatable craft with Roach jumping aboard after him. Gertrud glares at Ghost once she manages to sit up.

"What the hell was that? !" Gertrud demands.

Without missing a beat, Ghost makes a quip. "No time for hesitation now, we have a General to catch."

Soap produces a Mini-Uzi from his leg holster and starts the engine of the zodiac; Price sets aside his SCAR-H and takes up an M4A1 with ACOG that was laying in the floor of the boat, he needed accuracy at range and the SCAR's thermal sight was no longer useful in this particular situation. Revving the Zodiac motor, Soap pins the throttle and the 141 are away. Speeding through the cave's river passageway they pursue the American General and his men through twisting tunnel passages and past rocky embankments. Deeper into the cave system they start to see the outline of Shepherds Zodiac. However, after leaving the cave and into the outside, they start passing bridges and shorelines, and they see that they are not alone.

"OH HELL WE'VE GOT OPFOR!" Roach warns.

Incoming fire from OpFor elements whizz past both Shepherd's men and the Task Force. It's total chaos as both sides try to kill each other in addition to the OpFor soldiers. Avoiding incoming fire from two hostile elements is proving to be a chore for Soap as he weaves in and out of incoming fire. He manages to tag some OpFor troops on a bridge with his mini-uzi held in one hand while he steers the Zodiac. Roach manages to shoot at a fuel barrel that bursts into flame, catching three men that were standing next to it upon spilling the petrol being held inside. They continue after Shepherd and his man while Price was providing directions to Soap and the others, routing OpFor squads while chasing Shepherd over the ever changing surface of water, the Zodiac bobbing, weaving and lurching as its motor drones and propels them after the General. Shepherd's Zodiac plunges into a cave, Price directs Soap after him.

"Through that cave! Don't let em get away!"

They manage to slip past another OpFor patrol and slowly start to gain on Shepherd. They continue speeding through the cave passage that seems to go on for a while as Price and the other men in the Task Force take pot shots at Shepherds boat in a bid to kill the traitor General, but the waves and shifting surface of the river proves to be straining the skills of the Task Force, until finally skipping into daylight. As Price turns back to Soap again, his eyes widen.

"Targets at 12 o'clock!"

Ghost, Roach and Gertrud look back. Roach blinks as he sees a pair of Littlebirds and about five Zodiacs filled with Shadow Company soldiers that are in hot pursuit of the Task Force. Farther up at a higher altitude is a UAV observing the action down below.

Roach groans. "Oh these guys are just taking the piss now! I thought for sure that they would take a hint and pack it in!"

"When will it end? !" Gertrud laments. She is starting to get fatigued from the constant battle and her BDU was getting wet. Today was certainly shaping up to be a real kick in the teeth, and she didn't like it.

"When Shepherds dead I suppose. No need to worry though, these guys will be long dead before we are. Nothing a little lead can't fix." Ghost replies half-joking.

Price quickly issues orders as he puts rounds on some OpFor on the shoreline before returning his attention to Shepherds Zodiac. "Stay clear of open areas! Soap, dodge that helicopter! We got a chopper on our six! Take evasive maneuvers!"

"Hold on everyone, it's going to get bumpy!" Soap cuts the engine hard left and adds more speed to the throttle, dogging a Littlebirds incoming fire, its miniguns spooling up and spitting lead at ridiculous rates of fire. A pair of Shadow Company Zodiacs overtakes them, the men riding in them opening fire. Ghost and Roach quickly return fire, managing to kill the occupants of the small water craft with well placed shots. Gertrud suppresses the Zodiacs following behind them with the 240, keeping them back at a distance. They quickly start passing bridges and rock formations in the river. All the while Price orders Soap to steer left and right avoiding the helicopters, Shadow Company, OpFor Small arms and RPG's all while trying to stay on the tail of General Shepherd, urging Soap to shake the Shadow Company elements on their tail.

Its ten minutes of pure, chaotic hell that Gertrud could scarce believe. It was ironic that looking back on her life that she had felt less stress fighting Neuroi then right now, at this very moment, sitting in a small boat with four men in the middle of a river surrounded by seemingly hundreds of armed men and a pair of aircraft that are dead set on killing her the 141. She would have preferred fighting Neuroi in Karlsland then this. As the chase continues, the river starts to gradually narrow. Up ahead they notice that the waters seemed to be rough and fast moving. Price knew exactly what Shepherd was leading them into.

"Rapids up ahead! It's going to get rough, hang on!"

As Shepherds Zodiac enters white water, the Task Force's Zodiac slows speed as Soap eases off the throttle. He had to be careful accelerating, he didn't want to damage the propeller or overturn them now. The 141's Zodiac cruses into rough waters with a trio of Shadow Company Zodiacs in pursuit; a few times the 141 seem to get in range of Shepherds craft, but fast moving, rough current, the risk of striking rocks beneath the water's surface coupled with large waves of water crashing into and soaking the operators is proving to complicate their mission. A few times Soap nearly loses control of the small water craft, but fortunately quick reflexes keep the Zodiac from ejecting its occupants into the water.

A pair of Zodiacs with Shepherds men flanks the Task Force, but Ghost and Roach act quickly, picking off targets in the rough waters. Ghost manages to tag a man piloting the enemy Zodiac's outboard motor, causing it to lose control and collide with a rock, ejecting the remaining men into the cold, turbulent rapids, leaving them in the mercy of the unforgiving current. Roach simply works his way through men taking pot shots at their craft until finally killing the Zodiac driver, the rubber craft getting beached onshore. Soap rakes OpFor on the river banks with his Mini-Uzi while Gertrud empties her boxmag into the last Zodiac that's trailing behind them, killing the men in a hail of 7.62mm fire and leaving the Zodiac floating downstream. It's seemingly a good sign when incoming gunfire finally dies away.

"I'm out of rounds!" Gertrud declares at last, getting splashed with another wave of frigged water.

"Looks like we either got them all or they backed off." Ghost observes. "Only one left now is that bastard Yank."

Then the Task Force hear the sound of a helicopter approaching behind them and pass overhead. Gertrud looks up at the light grey aircraft, seemingly a rather large craft with a large rotor span and heavily imposing silhouette. Her mouth slackened as she gazed upon the aircraft flying past them above their heads, towards their target. At which point they hear Shepherd over the comm.

"Avatar One, gimme a sitrep, over!"

"I have Warhorse 5-1 standing by. Pave Low's downriver, sir." The UAV pilot replies quickly.

"Copy that! Warhorse 5-1, be advised, we're coming in hot!"

"Roger - dropping the hatch - keep it above 30 knots and watch the vertical clearance."

"Bloody hell, he's going to get away on that Pavelow!" Ghost exclaims. They were so close to fulfilling their mission, and the opportunity was slipping away, right before their eyes.

"No he isn't" Soap guns the engine and starts catching up to Shepherd as the Task Force can see the Pavelow land in the water with its ramp down. As they get within twenty feet of the General's Zodiac, the water craft that the 141 was pursuing slipped up the ramp and into the helicopters cargo bay. The Pavelow starts to lift back up into the air, the four operators and the young witch passing directly beneath it. The Pavelow starts to slowly pull ahead and away from them, taking "Gold Eagle" in tow. Roach and Ghost both cursed.

Ghost unloads his clip at the Pavelow in a bid to hit anyone inside. "God damnit!"

"After all this, he's going to fucking get away with it! That old bastards going to win and escape scot free!" Roach shouts angrily.

Gertrud sighed in defeat. "We've lost..."

Price however turns to Soap and speaks to the younger Captain with a determined tone. "Soap! Hold it steady!" Price takes aim with his M4A1 using the bow of the Zodiac for support. The Zodiac rounds a bend; Soap try's to aim the bow directly at the Pavelow for Price. He can see the old man now attempting the impossible. He questioned wither Price would be able to pull this off, but he would have to see. Soap then focused on keeping the boat steady for his mentor to make history. As the Pavelow attempts to escape, they find a cloud of sand blocking them in front of the helicopters path, preventing the aircrafts escape. The sandstorm from earlier has blown in front of the Pavelows exfil route. Roach wondered if this was a simple stroke of luck or perhaps the work of some higher power, either way it seemed like they may have been given a second chance in finishing all this. The Task Force can see the Pavelow hovering just in front of a waterfall.

"Uh, crew, we got a sandstorm at 12 o'clock. We're taking the long way around. Hang on."

The pilot of the Pavelow reports to his crew and passengers of the Sandstorm ahead and slowly turns the Pavelow around. Price is focusing on the Pavelows main rotor, his hands steady, the older operator waiting for the Zodiac to stay right on target. He was biding his time, lining up the perfect shot. He had one chance at this; he had to make it count.

"Steady!"

The Zodiac bobbed down sharply and then levelled after a small fall in the rapids. The Pavelow was still in its turn. Price kept his eye glued to the main rotor through his ACOG. His hand gripped his weapon firmly as water creped over the bow and into the bottom of the Zodiac. Price took no notice of this, placing all his attention into the Pavelow.

"Steady!"

As Soap holds the Zodiac steady while slowly creeping closer to the waterfall, he, Ghost, Roach and Gertrud watch silently. After the Pavelow had finished its turn, the front of the aircraft now facing towards them, Price depresses the trigger three times. The first round slams into the body of the helicopter, the second strikes a little higher near the engine of the main rotor. The third round strikes the sweet spot and they could see the top of the Pavelow combust and belch smoke. The three soldiers grin from ear to ear as they watch the Pavelow yaw right sharply, in the beginnings of a spin that takes the aircraft to the ground below. Gertrud is overjoyed, awe struck by Price's amazing shot with nothing more than a common infantryman's rifle.

"You did it Captain! You've shot it down! Incredible!"

All cause for celebration was quickly quashed when they realized that the waterfall was quickly drawing closer. Price turns to Soap and gestures to him.

"Back up! Back Up!" he ordered.

Soap quickly stuck the motor into reverse, but even at full acceleration the Zodiac still was drawing closer to the edge of the waterfall. The current was surging off a cliff and into a long drop to the river below.

Ghost's voice raises an octave in surprise. "Bloody-hell!"

"Oh shit, I've seen this before!" Roach cries out. "I hate falling from things!"

Gertrud panicked as the falls drew closer. She knew it was going to be a long fall and that it was likely going to be a rocky landing. It seemed like this insane ride though hell was going to end with a smash upon the rocks or drowning to death in turbulent waters.

"Oh god, we're going to go over! It'll kill us for sure!"

The look on Ghost's face seemed to change; his eyes appear as though something was haunting him. His mouth became dry as a sudden memory from his past reared up from the deep recesses of his mind. A memory that was painful and tragic in nature. He could remember now so well, and he loathed that now it was returning again. A memory of death and loss, only now something was added to it. He could see the images of his family, all dead in a pool of their own blood, Christmas tree overturned and a small model airplane spattered in blood. Only now another face joined them. A familiar young face, with brown eyes and hair, submerged in bloody water. Her mouth opening and air escaping her lungs, being replaced by the bloody water in its stead... the life in her eyes... slowly...slowly was draining. The image in his mind is banished with a quick shake of his head as Ghost wraps his arms around Gertrud's body. He holds onto her tightly, catching her by surprise.

"L-lieutenant? What-"

"HOLD ON LUV! WHATEVER YOU DO JUST HOLD ON TO ME AND DON'T LET GO!"

"We're really going to die...It can't end like this!"

"It won't! I promised I'd get you home and I will! Just hang on for me! You believe me, right?"

"G-ghost." Gertrud braced herself as the Zodiac's bow was inching over the falls. She holds onto Ghost tightly as she and the others await the plunge. "I want to..."

A defiant look then fills the Lieutenants eyes. "It'll take more than this to kill us, I can guarantee that! I won't let go of you luv!"

Soap's eyes were wide as the Zodiac tilted forward despite his efforts to keep them from going over. Roach was swearing like a Marine throughout the whole ordeal, and Price grabbed hold of the rope lines on the Zodiac in preparation of the inevitable. Ghost and Gertrud held onto each other like their lives depended on it. Once the Zodiac went over the edge, the five soldiers were in free-fall to the river below...


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"I tell you something is happening! Major Sakamoto was talking with Flying officer Hartmann and her twin sister just after the men took the Ranger's away."

"You're sure?"

"Of course I am! I saw it with my own two eyes!"

Perrine was speaking to Yoshika while Lynette and Lucchini were both quietly listening to the two girls. The four girls were huddled together in the mess hall in a huddle. With Perrine explaining the latest goings on, the younger witches are left wondering what's happening, though Yoshika is still trying to pick apart some of the bespectacled Gillian's theories, which the other girl didn't approve of. After some back and forth between both Perrine and Yoshika that is steadily getting more heated, Lynette decides to interrupt them before they can escalate.

"Do you know what they were talking about?" Lynette asks.

Perrine sighs and shakes her head. "No, but I wish I did, I couldn't hear anything that that was being said by anybody during any of this. But all I do know is that Captain Barkhorn is missing, in addition to Ghost and Roach. The only ones brought back were the Rangers."

The other girls gasped upon hearing the news. They knew that Captain Barkhorn was the squadron's ace and heavy hitter. Without her they would be without a strong team member to pick up slack and take down the more difficult Neuroi that they would likely to encounter. They had lost both a large portion of their squad's strength, in addition to a dear friend.

"Oh no, that's terrible! Without the Captain we will be down in unit strength." Lynne lamented.

"We have to do something! How can we get her back?" Yoshika asks Perrine worriedly.

"I don't know!" Perrine growls in frustration. "It's all because of those five confounded men! If it weren't for them we wouldn't be in this predicament. I knew we couldn't trust them! We never should have helped them!"

Lucchini was taken aback and quickly retorted. "You jerk! Why are you being so mean to them! All they wanted was to go home! It's not their fault so stop talking like that about them!"

"Of course it's their fault! If they hadn't come to our base the Captain would still be with us and we wouldn't have to deal with this mess!"

"It's not like they had a choice! It just happened like this you idiot!"

"What did you say you little brat?!"

"You're an idiot! AND I'm not a little brat!"

Both girls lock eyes with each other and start to advance, seemingly about ready to fight, but both Yoshika and Lynne hold the two girls back before fists could start flying. After a moment of struggling in the grasp of their squad mates, Perrine finally regains composure, straightening her glasses and scoffing abruptly, while Lucchini continued to demand that Yoshika let her go.

"In any event they are untrustworthy, thuggish Neanderthals. Whatever happens to them will be a taste of their own medicine. The whole lot of them are horrid. Ghost and Roach took the Captain hostage and those three Rangers were accomplices. It serves those horrible men right!"

Lucchini still struggled in Yoshka's grasp as the young Fuso girl held her back. She was getting sick of Perrine's attitude and how she was talking about the Rangers, and by extension Private Ramirez. "But Ramirez is a nice man! I like him! He isn't bad at all."

"They attacked a Karlsland General while he was speaking to them. They are not good men at all Lucchini. That should be proof enough that they are up to no good!"

Lucchini stopped struggling and lowered her head, her voice dropping to a murmur. "...I don't like the General..."

Yoshika looked confused. "Why not?" She asked.

"... He's bad...I hate him..."

Perrine looked at Lucchini skeptically and crossed her arms. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"He gives me the creeps! And he's a big, stupid, mean bully for locking Ramirez and his squad up! I hate, hate, HATE that stupid General!"

Lynette worriedly looks to Perrine. "What should we do?"

"What makes you think we should do anything?" Perrine asks indignantly.

Yoshika turned to the Gallian girl imploringly. "But we can't just sit and do nothing! We have to help them get home. They still have to return to their reality and their country and save it from being invaded."

Perrine seemed to become surprised by Yoshika's words. Lynette also tries to appeal to the Gallian girl's better nature, hoping that her squad mate can help the three men that they had just become accustomed to for the past week.

"Their situation was just like yours. It wouldn't be right to not help them... please Perrine..."

Perrine H. Clostermann silently thought over what both the Sergeants had said carefully. The knowledge that the country the Ranger's hailed from was invaded, much like her homeland Gallia was invaded, gave her a moment to reconsider how she saw the three men. Even though she didn't like to admit it, she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the Rangers. When she looked again at Lucchini, she could see how sad the younger girl was. Finally, Perrine sighs.

"Alright, alright... I suppose we should at least try and see if we can help in some way or another."

The three young witches smile in relief. With Perrine now convinced they can start putting a plan in action, providing they can think one up. Lucchini grins in anticipation and celebrates to herself. But now the four girls are left wondering what to do. Silently they look to each other, seemingly lost at finding a plan of action.

"So... anybody got any ideas?" Lucchini asks at last.

A voice speaks from behind them. "Trying to think of a plan, girls?"

Presently Major Sakamoto rounds a corner, flashing a subdued smile at the four girls. They turn round to face the major in surprise, with Perrine quickly becoming ecstatic; the air of sweetness and affection for the major becoming ever apparent.

"M-major! It's good to see you! Is there something that you need at all?" the bespectacled Gallian exclaims.

"As a matter of fact both Minna and I need your help. Thiers going to be a briefing in ten minutes, and we're going to need everyone's help. Minna is ordering us, the active Reserve witches, and a few of the base personnel that we trust for the briefing."

"Wow, is there a reason that there are so many people being called?" Yoshika asks.

"Yes, but explanations will have to come later. Just be ready to meet in the war room in ten minutes. And keep it quiet, understood?"

"Yes mamm." The girls replied.

* * *

><p>Soap slowly came to at the river bank, awaking to the sound of the rushing waterfall from behind him and finding himself on his back. Rolling over his head lists from left to right lazily, slowly picking himself off the muddy bank while coughing up water. Weakly he got to his feet and unsheathed his combat knife. As he starts to walk he stumbles, his equilibrium completely shot, the sand storm buffeting him. He forces himself forward to find Shepherd. Price may have shot down the old yanks helo, but Soap had to make sure. He had to be certain that the bastard was dead, to confirm the kill.<p>

After lumbering for a few feet on less then sturdy footing, Soap noticed a person dragging themselves forward as the Captain pushed through the sandstorm; turning out to be a struggling Shadow Company Solider crawling in his direction weakly. Soap studied the crawling man as he passed to get an assessment, noting that the Shadow trooper was trailing a long trail of blood in the dirt. Soap frowned. Seemed like the trooper didn't notice him or if he did, he didn't seem to care, and from the amount of blood he was losing his time is quickly running out. Soap just passed the unfortunate solider, wobbly pressing forward. No point wasting energy killing a man that was no longer a threat.

He continues for a bit until he sees the wreckage of the Pavelow. Flames burned angrily and scrap metal was strewn throughout the crash site. Soap notices another human shaped silhouette resting against the wreckage of the crashed helicopter; another Shadow Company Trooper, seemingly the pilot of the helicopter. The trooper's head turned to Soap in surprise. He started to try and reach for something. Soap tired to quicken his pace, but he was trying to hustle while dizzy and weakened. The Shadow Company trooper produces a pistol just as Soap gets within three feet of him. Aiming the pistol at Soap, the man pulls the trigger as the knife in Soaps hand plunges into him. The only sound is the click of an empty gun, followed by the death rattle of the stabbed man.

Soap then hears the sound of metal shifting and debris falling over. Extracting his knife from the pilot's body, he stumbles his way around the aircraft. Their at last, stumbling out of the wreckage, is Shepherd. Soap approaches the General, his objective just within reach. General Shepherd, seen clutching his side while bleeding quite a bit, notices Soap and starts to break into a hobbled run. Soap tries to take a swing with his knife at the old American, but misses and falls over. He curses and picks himself back up and chases after Shepherd, both men running through the thickly laid sandstorm.

* * *

><p>Slowly regaining consciousness and coughing up water, Ghost finds himself resting in a bend on the shoreline about two yards downstream from the water fall, smack dab in the middle of the river. He feels something resting snugly against his chest and looks down groggily at what his arms have wrapped around. He remembers and realizes that it was Gertrud: this whole time even having gone over the waterfall, he didn't let her go, or her of him. But to his horror he noticed that her head was submerged. He lifts her head above water and starts to weakly crawl his way to dry land. After struggling and getting to the beach, he tries to wake her up.<p>

"Trude. Gertrud darling, wake up. Can you hear me?"

He doesn't get a response. Cursing, he quickly rests Gertrud on her back and starts to perform CPR. He tilts her head back to open her airway and he listens for breath for ten seconds. Finding none, he checks for a pulse which he finds, but it's weak. He curses again, lifts his balaclava up off his mouth and starts ventilating. Ghost's mouth overlaps the mouth of the young Karlslander and he breaths into her airway, her chest rising and falling. Quickly he starts chest compressions. He counts off the number of compressions in his head, focused intensely on saving Gertrud's life. After thirty compressions, he checks again for breathing.

She's still not drawing breath. Ghost has reason to believe that her lungs had filled with water while they were carried away from the waterfall downstream. He tries the process again: check airway, ventilate and compressions. He took emergency first aid courses so he knew just what he had to do, even despite the fact he was overdue for a refresher course. All solders had even a rudimentary level of first aid, in case medics weren't available. Ghost had to just continue to put his effort into CPR until he can get Gertrud breathing again. He had to get the water that was in her lungs out. He did this for two minutes, and so far it seemed to be rather grim. His mind raced as he struggled to bring Gertrude back from the brink.

"Come on Gertrud, don't give up on me now. You're too strong for this, fight it!"

* * *

><p>Ghost ventilates and starts compressions again. As he was struggling to resuscitate the young Captain, he didn't notice a crawling figure that was approaching from behind him. Suffering from severe tunnel vision, the crawling trooper was trailing blood. Weakly he rose to his knees. The trooper notices Ghost after crawling through the sandstorm for a while, and weakly draws closer.<p>

The wounded Shadow Company man's hands pulled his battered, bleeding body closer towards the back of the unaware Lieutenant of the 141. A wild look was pasted in his eyes, his gaze fixated on the masked man's back.

* * *

><p>Ghost was still struggling to resuscitate Gertrud, the images from before replaying in his mind. He grimaced, not wanting to have his nightmares become reality. He continued chest compressions as he continued to speak to the unconscious witch, his voice becoming desperate.<p>

"Damnit, woman breath! Breath!"

After three minutes and fifteen seconds of CPR, Gertrud started to cough up water. Ghost's relived, but before he could roll the young girl over on her side to let the water drain safely from her mouth, a pair of arms wrap around his neck in a choke hold. Ghost tries to escape the grasp of his attacker, but the man has a death hold on him. He brings his elbow into the head of his assailant three times, but the man holds tight. Choking and gasping, Ghost tries to wrestle free, but his airway is being cut off. His vision starts to grow spotty and blurred and his lungs were burning. He knows that his attacker plans to strangle him to death. He slowly gets to his feet, though he is weighed down by the dead weight of the man holding onto him from behind. He puts all his strength into leaping off the ground going backwards. He falls back onto the man holding onto him, the sound of a pained groan escaping the assailant. But the attacking man holds firm.

Ghost rolls onto his stomach and tries to pry the man's arm off of his windpipe, but his energy is sapped. His vision continues to darken and he is cursing to himself. He couldn't believe that he's going to die such an unceremoniously excruciating manner. It would have been sort of funny if it wasn't so pathetic, and the irony wasn't lost on him either. He tries to save Gertrud from drowning only to find himself being strangled to death. It was like a combination of a Devine Comedy and Epic Tragedy rolled into one: it would have rivaled the works of Shakespeare at any rate.

As Ghost contemplated his fate and struggled against his seemingly inevitable, slow death, he hears something approaching and the assailant grunting in surprise. One of the assailant's hands releases a hold of Ghost; the Lieutenant can now hear his attacker choking as well. He then hears a familiar voice, though it sounded somewhat garbled from water.

"LET HIM GO!" With a roar, a sudden motion and the sound of the Shadow Company man's neck snapping, Gertrud kills the man strangling the Lieutenant via a Triangle Choke, her thighs coiled around his neck and twisting suddenly, the hostile man's neck breaking from the sheer force she exercised.

Ghost slips out of the dead man's grasp, dragging himself out from under the body of the dead man and turns to Gertrud. He see's Gertrud slowly drag herself away from the man she had just killed, panting heavily and looking drained. Her face seemed blank.

"Thank's luv, I thought that was the end for a moment." Ghost laughed weakly.

Gertrud felt numb, her eyes unfocused for a moment, before she blinks and turned to Ghost questioningly. "What happened? I think I might have...blacked out... I can only remember falling and... hitting something."

Ghost slowly approaches Gertrud and exhales, taking a seat beside her. "Well, we hit the water after going over the waterfall... you almost drowned, so I had to perform CPR."

"I see..."

"You said something about hitting something? Are you hurt?" He asks with concern in his voice.

Gertrud shakes her head. "N-no, I'm not hurt. But it's strange... I feel like I could have fallen onto a rock while you hung on to me, but the impact felt...dulled somehow. I remember hitting something, winding up submerged and I try and speak but my lungs end up filling with water."

"But you're not hurt?"

"No, I'm not."

Ghost is confused by this. If she had landed upon rocks while he held on to her, then she would have been dead for sure. The only thing he thought of that could have protected her was her magic shield, but if it was her shield, why couldn't her Strikers Work when she wore them? While he ponders this he realizes something else: If he hadn't been holding onto Gertrud and had landed on the supposed rocks that she fell onto, then he would be the one who would have been killed. He was glad that Gertrud wasn't hurt, but he was also glad that he wasn't killed. He dodged another bullet back there. But now Ghost moves on to the next step to dealing with the past couple minutes: lightening the mood with a little levity.

"You remember who and where you are?" Ghost asks jokingly after a pause.

Gertrud snorts indignantly. "Of course I do! It's not like I landed on my head!"

Ghost laughs. "Just making sure, I'd hate to deal with trying to restore the memory of someone suffering from amnesia."

Gertrud's face shifts to sincere curiosity as she looks about their surroundings. "Hey Ghost?"

"Yes Captain?"

"Where's Roach?"

Ghost stops for a moment. "Uh...I don't bloody well know actually." Looking around, Ghost tries to find the Sergeant, finally spotting him further downstream, clutching to a large rock in the middle of the river. "Ah, their he is, I knew he had to be somewhere." Ghost got up and trudged to the river back towards Roach. "Oi, Roach! Are you alright mate?"

Roach turns to Ghost, seemingly fully alert and his face appearing pale, his Balaclava adjusted to expose his face. "ARE YOU KIDDING? WE JUST WENT OVER A WATERFALL! OF COURSE I'M NOT ALRIGHT!"

"Well you're alive arn't ya. Quit being such a brokedick and get out of the bloody drink already!"

Roach groans and hesitantly let's go of the large rock, paddling his way to shore weakly while he curses under his breath. Once on the bank, Ghost helps the younger operator up.

"Have you seen Price and MacTavish, mate?" Ghost asks.

Roach seemed confused. "I thought they were with you."

Ghost sighs. "Well, if they aren't here then maybe they are somewhere else... but where..." Ghost's voice trails off when a thought comes to him. He turns into the direction of the dead Shadow Company trooper and studies the blood trail. Gertrud notices this stand up, her legs wobbling as she tried to find her footing.

"Perhaps they went that way." Gertrud murmurs.

Ghost exhales. "I guess we will have to find out."

* * *

><p>Soap continued to pursue Shepherd for about over sixty yards, trailing the American man through the sandstorm. As he slowly trails after the darkened, obscured silhouette of Shepherd's back facing him, the two men approach a rusty, old, apparently deserted oil yard. Resting outside the worn, weather beaten fence of the oil yard lays a rusty, broken down car, the paint peeled away from the desert sands and wind that had buffeted it for seemingly years.<p>

Shepherd comes to rest against the battered old car, clutching his side painfully. Once within seven feet of the old yank, Soap takes his time approaching, his knees feeling weak and his feet burning in protest. Soap finally stands before the backstabbing traitor that had killed so many of the 141, the one who tarnished their good names, left them twisting in the wind for his own goals. The old General's eyes look to Soap, a hard look printed clearly onto his face.

"You know what they say about revenge...you better be ready to dig two graves..."

Soap's eye's narrowed as his hand flexed on the handle of his knife. "You're going to pay for what you did, General. Like you tried to destroy the 141, the 141 will destroy you." He couldn't help but feel like he was starting to sound like some rather clichéd anime hero after saying that. It sounded better in his head.

"Go ahead and end it." Shepherd goaded. "It won't change anything."

Soap had a moment of pause... unsure what the old yank meant by that. He was hesitating. He didn't even know why he was. He had a chance to finally end it and he was hesitating. Could it be because he had served under Shepherd for so long... that he wanted an explanation: The reasoning? The rational? Was there even any to begin with?

"Why not? Once you're dead our names will be cleared and we can take out that bastard Makarov. You've lost."

Shepherd scoffed. "Really? You think it's that simple? Sure, you can kill me. I may have lost the battle...but the legacy I've built will live on. The strength I've given to my country, the inspiration I gave to the American people to meet the enemy will be unyielding. The American men and women in uniform will continue on." The corner of the old General's mouth shifted. "You think that killing an American hero will be left unchecked and unnoticed? The land of the free and her allies will be gunning for you and the rest of the Task Force... you're wanted criminals now. Disavowed... see the picture now MacTavish?"

Soap didn't want to believe that, didn't want to admit that it was the truth. He wanted to think that Shepherd was playing some sort of mind game with him, wanted to think that killing this traitor of a man will clear them... but then he realized that would just be denial. And knowing this, it was a terribly demoralizing blow to the young Captain. If what Shepherd said was true, then what could he possibly do after killing the American General? A conflicted look washed over his face, and Shepherd saw it.

"What's the matter Captain? Can't finish it?"

Soap looked at Shepherd, looking lost, confused and agitated. His eyes gazed at the wounded old warhorse before him. The yank peered at the Captain and frowned in disapproval. He expected better than this from MacTavish. Even though they were both now on different sides of the battlefield, Shepherd couldn't help but see potential in MacTavish, if only for one little, nagging fault.

"Hmph. I knew you couldn't do it..." Shepherd scoffed. He laughed a quiet, rueful laugh as he continued. "You're a good warrior... but you could never take that extra step... to do what was absolutely necessary."

Soap's face hardened and he glared at Shepherd with determined ferocity. In that split second, he came to a decision. "Wanna bet ya bastard?"

Soap lunges forward with the knife raised above his head, ready to plunge the blade into the traitor General. In a swift motion, Shepherd blocks Soaps strike and sends the head of the Task Force operator into the roof of the wrecked car. Disoriented, Soap falls to the ground and lands on his back. Soap watches as Shepherd then drew a knife of his own from his sheath and plunges it into the Task Force Operators chest. His eye's bulged as the stabbing pain had assailed his chest, a garbled grunt escaping him. For a moment, the young Captain blacks out.

* * *

><p>Eila was flipping through Tarot cards in her room, as Sanya was watching sleepily. She had heard rumors of what had happened to Captain Barkhorn, the two Task Force Operators and the Three Rangers. Since hearing the news she tried to find out what other event's would soon transpire, but she found that any information she would normally find was clouded, she couldn't center herself and get any good readings on events yet to be. So she decided to get a little help from the Tarot cards again. Normally she didn't rely on them very often for her magical ability "Forsight", but with the five soldiers from the other reality having been foretold by the cards, she would use them again to help her visions into the time beyond. To find any answers, messages or warnings.<p>

But the cards were also hard to discern. By themselves they could mean anything. What she needed was context. A connection to something, to get a proper, clearer reading, thus far she wasn't able to get much, so for now, she needed to approach from a different angle. She inquired about worldly events and got vague answers. She realized she needs to ask the spirits and higher powers that be specific questions.

She gathered up her cards and reshuffled them into the deck. She then concentrated on them and then focused on her question, asking it again and again in her mind. Once she was done with this particular step, she first drew then lay nine cards down in front of her. For important times like this, nine cards would provide more detail in the reading, and therefore more information to the one seeking answers and guidance.

Eila's deck was a full Tarot reader's deck, handed down from her grandmother, to her mother and finally to her. It contained Major Arcana and Minor Arcana. Major Arcana cards served as a permanent trump suit, heavy in symbolism with far more to the illustration than a mere depiction of the cards title alone. The Major Arcana were usually regarded as relating to matters of higher purpose or deep significance. The Minor Arcana related to the everyday world and matters of immediate significance. There were 22 Major Arcana and 56 Minor Arcana, a total of 78 cards in the deck.

She slowly over turns the cards one by one, her face becoming all the more thoughtful as she overturned them, but half way through revealing the cards in the suit, her face darkens... she had asked the cars to help her. She asked them if Ghost Roach and Gertrud were alright at this very moment. Eight of the cards were already overturned and she was studying them... the ninth card resting directly at the center of the spread was still unturned. It was also the first time she had gone out of order in overturning the cards.

Many of the cards in the suit beckoned for a rise in unlocking ones potential, and need for meditation and strength of will. But three of the cards had shown warnings of dangers, appearing in the spread in places that indicated such. The rest could go one way or the other, depending on how the actions predicted in the other cards were handled. After divining the knowledge she could from the eight overturned cards, she turned her attention to the final card. Sudden visions of war entered her mind's eye as she saw men fighting each other; explosions, fires and battles raging in what she assumed to be the other reality. It struck her suddenly; and she was repulsed by these frightening, violent images. The visions turned to war rooms, with commanders mulling over battle plans and directing troops, urgency ringing clear in their voices, though they used terminology she didn't understand. Voices through radios were droning through airways that traveled from many countries in a cacophony of voices. Panic, urgency, hatred and apathy that flowed from comm.-channels had steeped their words. She placed her hand against her forehead and massaged the pain she was feeling in that place.

Sanya noticed this and quietly inquired. "Eila...are you alright?"

Eila was unusually silent. After easing the pain in her forehead, she narrowed her gaze at the final card. The one that would provide some final piece of knowledge, and slowly her hand overturned the card. To her credit, she didn't know what to expect when she overturned the final card, but she was surprised when she was met with a card that she didn't think was relevant to the others.

The Ace of Cups.

It, like many Ace Tarot cards, was a card of beginnings. The Ace of Cups signified the beginning of an emotional nature: A card of happiness and blessings. After the final card was revealed, she then started to see context. All of the factors presented to her by the current Tarot cards indicated that all of these things that are coming to pass or will come to pass will have a major influence on the Ace of Cups, which at this time was centred in the very middle of all the cards in a true neutral state. She struggled to grasp at what it could all mean and what more detail she could gleam from the wisdom of the Tarot Cards.

All she got was another vision. A world being laid to ruin, swamped in death and suffering. The only thing giving comfort in any form was two shadowed figures, shrouded in back, their features blotted out. One was large, masculine and seemed like death incarnate, the other small, lithe and surrounded in a blue aura that didn't permeate the shadow that enveloped her. They both faced each other, not in aggression, but in calm. They both drew close to each other and extended a hand, one towards the other. Before their hands could connect, soldiers in shadow surrounded them, followed by tanks and strange aircraft. The mass of military troops and vehicles were prepared to tear the two shrouded figures asunder. As soon as it appeared, the vision vanished, but it had overwhelmed Elia greatly. She gasped at how powerful that final vision was. Worriedly Sanya reached out and took Eila by the arm.

"Eila! What's wrong? What did you see?"

The Suomus girl turned to her dear friend and frowned in confusion. "I'm not sure...but I think...something big is going to happen." She felt light headed and raised her hand to her head. "Man that last one was extremely massive. Not even the one I had about Miyafuji after drawing the Death card was this powerful."

"Is it that bad?" Sanya asked worriedly.

Eila cocked her head. "It could go either way; it's up to Ghost, Roach and the Captain to deal with these problems yet to come."

Eila had distinct feelings about this reading, and to her it feels like she was within the ballpark in terms of an accurate divination. The only thing she still wasn't able to wrap her head around was the Ace of Cup's place in all this. Who was it directed to? She thought about it and wondered if it was directed at the two figures that were bathed in shadow and surrounded by enemies in her vision. She also had the distinct feeling that they were both... familiar. As if she knew them... but for the life of her shouldn't figure out why this was so. While the events of the future are now gaining tangibility, possibility, the shadows of what will be were still shifting and uncertain.

* * *

><p>Soap slowly started to come to, his eyes blinking open, and the now familiar, painful reminder that he was stabbed retuning. He looks to his chest and peers at the knife imbedded in his body, though his vision again fails him and all he sees is blackness. His head hit the dirt and he weakly looks up at where he thinks Shepherd is as the old yank begins his rant, explaining his motives, though Soap was still seeing blackness. The General's voice was slow and deliberate, but was slowly growing bitter as he continued.<p>

"Five years ago, I lost 30,000 men in the blink of an eye... And the world just Fucking watched."

Soap's eyes started to function properly again, he saw Shepherd calmly draw his .44 Magnum Revolver, emptying spent shell casings into the sand. He loaded two rounds into the cylinder, but he paused for a moment thoughtfully. Reaching back into his holster, he produced another three rounds and inserted them into the weapon, remembering that Soap and Price weren't the only one's trying to kill him; all the while he was looking directly into Soap's eyes.

"Tomorrow there will be no shortage of volunteers, no shortage of patriots."

A millisecond of pause later, Shepherd closes the cylinder of the revolver with a flick of his wrist. His thumb cocks back the hammer of the sidearm, and it was here that Soap became terrified. He was going to be on the receiving end of a killing blow. He didn't want to go out like this. He was so close to killing the damned bastard, and now the tables were turned. He was weakened and in pain, barely able to move. He was at the American man's mercy. And it seemed like he wasn't going to get any either. What he felt was indescribable. But it felt depressing, soul crushing. Misery, fear and just a touch of rage filled the young Captain.

_Shite! I'm going to die! _

Staring down the barrel of a gun at a distance where you could see the bullet resting in the chamber was not a scenario that Soap wanted to experience. He tried to think of something, but his mind was reeling with nothing but panic and thoughts of death, which provided little in the way of plans and solutions.

Shepherd seemed regretful as he aimed his sidearm at Soap. "I know you understand."

Soap scrunched his face up, bracing for the bullet to burry itself into his skull at point blank range. He eyes squinted into the barrel of the Magnum and he could see the bullet coming, imagining it burrowing into his head and ending his life. As Shepherd squeezed the trigger, out of nowhere Price barrels into Soap's peripheral vision and knocks the revolver off target, the round impacting the dirt just next to Soap's head, causing him to flinch. The tackle knocks Shepherd to his knees. The General glares at Price as the Task Force Captain tries to throw a right hook, but Shepherd blocks it. His pistol hand rises to shoot Price, but the Captain knocks the pistol out of his grasp with his foot, the general losing his sidearm while still trying to rise from the ground. Soap watches the Magnum slide across the ground before coming to rest while both of the older, but still very capable men continue their brawl.

Soap see's the Magnum on the ground; his eye's fixating on it. It was still loaded with four rounds left in the cylinder, but was still out of his grasp from where he was. Gritting his teeth as he rolled onto his side, Soap slowly began to drag his body across the afghan soil. He felt sore and fatigued with each growing inch forward. Soap liked the idea of the impending irony that Shepherd was going to face; getting killed with the same weapon the old yank was going to use to kill him. All the while the sounds of grunting and hand to hand combat went on. But Soap's eyes never left the .44 Magnum a few meters away.

_Come-on now, just a little closer. Just a little closer._

Soap encouraged himself as he pulled his battered body steadily to the magnum. It was just five feet out of reach, just another few feet and he can put a round into Shepherd and that would be a dust off for this mission. He knew that Price could hold his own, that he could handle the yank without a problem until he got the revolver.

Or so he thought...

The sight of Price suddenly coming into view, grunting as he was knocked to the ground, lying face down and looking beat up worried the young Captain. He cursed and quickened his pace, dragging himself to the magnum. Once he's close enough, Soaps hand reaches the barrel of the weapon. A large, tan, military issue combat boot steps in front of Soap as another boot kicks the .44 Magnum away. Soap looks up to see the face of a bruised and bloodied Shepherd looking down at him, soon followed by the bottom of the General's combat boot raising and coming back down on Soaps face with a sickening crunch.

He's not even able to finish the curse in his mind as the heavy boot knocks him out a second time.

* * *

><p>Ghost, Roach and Gertrud followed the blood trail as much as they can. Most of the blood was starting to get harder to see, the sand storm burying the red trail that lay before them. After some time they presently come to the wreckage of the Pavelow. As the trio approached the wreckage, they noticed the body of a Shadow Company Trooper. Ghost knelt down to look the body over and upon closer inspection it appeared that the man was stabbed to death.<p>

"Looks like they came this way alright." Ghost mused.

Roach glanced about the wreckage of the helicopter. "Man, this thing came down hard. Captain Price made one hell of a kickass shot if I do say so."

"Where now?" Gertrud asks.

Before either of the men could reply, the sound of a gunshot rings out, causing Gertrud to jump and the heads of the operators snap towards its direction. Ghost shot to his feet and turned to the others.

"Sounds like trouble. Roach, you follow me. Gertrud, wait here while we go check things out over there. The two of us will come back for you."

Gertrud turned to the Lieutenant indignantly. "Haven't I proven myself to you?"

"That's not the issue. We don't know what's happening down there, and I'd rather Roach and I go and recon that gunshot. Just stay by this wreckage and don't move alright?"

Gertrud studied Ghost sternly for a moment, but she finally relented, hesitantly. "Very well..."

Ghost motioned to Roach. "Alright mate, let's go."

Not wasting any more time, both men press forward through the sandstorm, steadily disappearing in the thick, obscuring cloud and leaving Gertrud alone with the wreckage. Once she lost sight of them, she continued to stare at the last spot she saw them at for a while. She couldn't help but feel worried for them both, nor could she understand why Ghost wanted her to stay put here. She pondered it, but despite this she wasn't able to peg an exact answer. Her eyes traveled across the helicopter wreckage until settling on the body of the dead trooper. Her eyes rested upon the corpse grimly. She wondered about this dead man and his life. Was he an evil person, or simply forced to follow orders? She wondered if he had family, what his hopes and dreams were. She clenched her hand into a fist, remembering the lives she took today, the simple fact that she took human lives slowly started to sink in. She turns away from the corpse as she tries to quench her feelings. True to her nature, she started to bury the feeling of guilt growing in her heart. The only thing she found she couldn't bury was her concern for the members of the Task Force, and Ghost in particular. She hoped that the Lieutenant would be alright, that he would be able to handle whatever danger lay ahead...

But she started to wonder why she was worrying so much. She already knew that Ghost was a well trained, disciplined military operator, and judging from some of his ops, including this one, he was more than capable in handling any trouble that would arise... so knowing this, why is she so concerned about his safety and well being? But she remembered that disciplined Karlslanders followed orders. So, she stayed put, like Ghost asked...though as time dragged on, it was starting to become difficult following this one request...

* * *

><p>Ghost and Roach pressed onward; double timing through the sandstorm to come to the aid of their Captain's. There was no time for them to rest either, they ran or Soap and Price could very likely die. Ghost kept urging Roach forward as they drew towards something that lay in the distance.<p>

"Come on mate, we're getting close to MacTavish and Price now."

"How do you know?" Roach questioned.

"Call it a feeling." Ghost replied simply.

They drew closer to an oil yard and paled when they saw what was happening. Soap was laying half conscious on the ground, a pool of blood slowly forming around him with a knife in his chest, while Price and Shepherd were trading blows with each other. And the General was winning. After Shepherd lands a blow that knocks Price to the ground, he pulls the British man up a bit, only to strike him in the side of his face, knocking the old 141 operator out. Before he can continue wailing into Price, Shepherd looks up and spots Ghost and Roach; he frowns as both men glare daggers at him.

"I knew you both would come. Was only a matter of time..."

Ghost rests both hands upon the two Glock 18's in the holsters at his sides, preparing to draw them. "I see my handy work from five days ago is slowing you down." Ghost quips dryly.

"Sloppy work in my opinion, I've seen better from you Riley. You're getting too lax" Shepherd scoffs. "It'll take more than this to slow me down... perhaps if you ran the pit a little more you might get back up to standard..."

"Even now, you think you can talk to me all buddy-buddy, you two faced yank? I'm still on my game. And you're on your last little bit of rope. Bout time I hung you with it!"

Ghost draws both his Glock's, aims and pulls the triggers, but they both jam. Ghost growls quietly, he foresaw this possibility. Having been fully submerged in water has waterlogged his sidearms and rendered them unable to fire. _Had to give it a shot. _He thought quietly.

"Hard to shoot a man when you're weapons won't fire, Lieutenant." Shepherd laughs.

"Well if I can't shoot you with my guns, I can club you to death with them." Ghost turns his pistols over so that he can wield them as melee weapons. As he approaches he makes a swing at Shepherd, only for his attack to be blocked and receiving a blow to the head in retaliation. He follows up with a left handed attack with the handle of his Glock, but it also gets blocked. Both men attempt to strike and parry with each other, both men circling each other as punches, kicks, head butts and even a grapple are exchanged. Both men are equal in their close quarter's skill, but Shepherd finds an opening after striking with a quick jab to Ghosts lower abdomen. Another blow from the Generals fist connects squarely with the Lieutenants chin, sending the Masked Task Force operator reeling and falling heavily to the ground, a pained groan escaping him as he landed face down. The General followed up with two forceful kicks to Ghost's ribs.

Roach grows furious at this and reaches for his side arm in his holster. "HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE YOU FUCKING-" His voice stops when his hand grasps at nothing. His M9 pistol is gone. Looking down, he can see that his leg holster is missing the pistol. He weakly finishes his sentence. "...bastard." Roach glances up and sees Shepherd looking at Roach with profound disappointment.

The General's eyes dart to Roach's left; the young operator follows the old American's gaze. He sees a .44 Magnum Revolver lying on the sand a few feet away. Both men then turn to one another knowingly, able to read what the other is thinking. Quickly, they both scramble for the weapon. Roach stumbles and tries to crawl after the weapon while getting to his feet. Shepherd is at the pistol first, grabbing the grip of the weapon. As he aims, Roach blocks the General's hand and grabs the wrist of his opponent. Shepherd thrusts the barrel of the gun into Roach's face. The Sergeant's eyes narrowed on the barrel and quickly he pushes the Generals revolver downwards and away from his face, the action taking place in milliseconds.

"Holy Shi-"

A familiar sounding shot rings out, and the familiar feeling of a .44 Remington Magnum round embedding itself in Roaches gut causes the young Task Force operator to scream out in pain. He couldn't believe his rotten luck. He fell backwards onto the ground while clutching his stomach, his hands already getting covered in blood.

"ARGH, GOD! NOT AGAIN!"

Shepherd studies Roach, not impressed with the young man's attempt. He always knew that Roach was a bit of a haphazard operator. Made too many rookie mistakes and missing the bigger picture. The only thing that he couldn't fault the Sergeant for was loyalty and the fact that he was harder then hell to kill. Knowing every spill, every close call, every injury and near death experience proved that while still flawed, Roach was lucky. At least until now...

_Such a waste..._ Shepherd thought. After giving Roach's foot a quick kick with his boot, he speaks to the young man, sounding disappointed. "You're disappointing me Sanderson. I can see potential but it's hindered by your haste and carelessness. You're like a blind bandit; all you'll ever expect is failure. The only redeeming quality is that you're hard to kill, in everything else, you're inconsistent and clumsy: You are a walking, talking accident waiting to happen." Shepherdsighed, and aimed his weapon at Roach. "Don't worry though, I'll make this quick..."

Before Shepherd can pull the trigger, a boot kicks the Magnum out of the General's grasp yet again, followed up by a punch to the face. The angry voice of the Task Force Lieutenant roars as he starts to press the advantage with a surprise attack. Ghost starts wailing into the General with a flurry of punches that keep finding their mark. Ghost attempts a push kick, setting up to Tackle Shepherd to the ground and beat his ass to death, but his kick is caught. With a tight grip on Ghost's leg and a twisting motion, Shepherd sends Ghost spinning through the air and back down to earth. He then turns Ghost over and starts punching the Lieutenant repeatedly in the face, his glasses flying off after the third punch. Standing up, he starts kicking the Lieutenant in the head. Each blow struck Ghost with a new, fresh world of pain. His vision starts to blur. He tries to sit up but is kicked to the head again, getting knocked to the ground. He stays down, dazed and battered.

Shepherd wipes a trickle of blood coming from the comer of his mouth. He turns to his Revolver on the ground and sneers. "This has gone on long enough. It's about time to put an end to this." He makes his way over to his weapon. All around him, the men of the Task Force are wounded and barley conscious.

* * *

><p>Gertrud waited silently by the helicopter wreckage. The sandstorm was thick, and the wind was blowing fiercely. She had to take cover, crouching next to the wreaked fuselage of the aircraft while she waited. Her thoughts still hung on Ghost and the other men of the 141. She had a feeling she couldn't explain, a feeling that bespoke trouble. The sound of a gunshot ringing out somewhere nearby grabbed her immediate attention. She bolted upright and looked straight ahead to where she had heard the report. She draws her USP from her drop leg holster and checks it briefly. She knows that she was asked to stay by the helicopter, but she just had the feeling she couldn't just stand on the sidelines anymore. The little voice in the back of her head told her to go, even though the disciplined Karlslander in her told her to stay put. And the gunshot's report was that of an enemy.<p>

She always followed orders given to her. But on the other hand... Ghost hadn't given her an order. He merely asked her. _They might need my help._ She reasoned. _I cannot stay here idly while the four of them could be in danger._ She took off in a sprint, running as fast as she could with her side arm at the ready. After running in a straight line for a while, she soon could see a large, rusted structure come into view. Upon getting closer, what she saw next horrified her: Captain Price lay unconscious and unmoving, looking heavily beaten and bruised. Captain Soap MacTavish had a knife plunged deep into his chest, his face black and bloodied from injury and blood slowly oozing from his stab wound; he was weakly trying to stay awake. Roach was rolling around on the ground in agony, groaning painfully as blood seeped through his hands from his stomach. And Ghost was lying dazed, looking soundly beaten, and slipping in and out consciousness. Her eyes finally rested on the familiar old man in camouflage fatigues. The man the Task Force knew as General Shepherd, and she could see him approaching a Revolver of some sort on the ground. Her pistol snapped up and she took aim at the General.

"DON'T MOVE!" Gertrud ordered loudly, making sure that the old General could hear her.

The man froze suddenly, and turned to face the Karlsland witch. He looked at her and blinked, not expecting to see a young girl in German Army fatigues and gear, out here in the middle of nowhere in a sand storm with a gun pointed at him. He stared at her a moment before finally raising an eyebrow.

"Just what in the hell is this? This is the firth contact? Is this some sort of joke?"

Ghost rolled onto his side weakly to look at Gertrud. "V-Valkyrie. What the hell are you-" Ghost grunted and clutched his head, which was throbbing in pain: He could barley stay awake, nor could he believe that Gertrud was actually confronting General Shepherd.

"You... you did this to these men?" the young witch demanded.

Shepherd ignored her question, his attention now on her and her alone. "A German girl, huh? Where on Earth did these gentlemen find you floating around?"

"I think I just asked you a question." Gertrud threatened. She took a step forward, wearing as fierce and angry a look she could muster.

Shepherd seemed unfazed, a stern look forming across his face. "I have no clue where they picked you up from, but I think it would be best if you put that gun down and went along you're way. This isn't the place for kids."

"You don't get to decide that." Gertrud barked.

"This isn't a game little girl. I'm doing you a favour, just walk off and forget all this." Shepherd warned.

Roach looks up from his little moment of pain induced agony and sees Gertrud staring down the former commanding officer of Task Force 141 at gun point. "Valkyrie! Get out of here; you're in over your head!"

Gertrud took a deep breath as she continued, ignoring Roach's warning. "The day I need a favor from you is the day pigs fly!" Her eyes narrowed on the old General as she spoke slowly and deliberately. "I've heard a great deal about you... General Shepherd. These men told me what kind of man you are. At first I couldn't believe it, couldn't understand why they would wish to hunt you like a common rat...but now I can see why... after all you've done."

Shepherd sneered. "Is that right? First time meeting someone and you believe the biased words of wanted criminals?"

Gertrud growled. "You're the criminal: You're a traitor to your men... you betrayed you're country!" She had always held her fatherland closely to her heart. She loved her homeland with every fibre of her being and she was devoutly loyal to both her country and her comrades in arms. She hated Shepherd; he was a blind fool, a traitor of his country and his people, deluding himself into thinking he was saving his homeland by employing treachery and callous anonymity to his men and those he served alongside. She hated men like him.

Shepherd slowly began to grow increasingly angry. "Who the hell are you to say what is right or wrong? What the hell gives you the idea of knowing what it means to sacrifice for your country, your people? What are you, eighteen years old, nineteen? You're a fresh faced punk, you know nothing about what men and women in uniform must do to do what is needed. You don't even know the meaning of the word sacrifice!"

"SHUT UP!" Gertrud screamed. "YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME THAT YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE TALKING TO?!"

"That's what I'd like to know... but I guess that could remain a mystery..." Shepherd returned his gaze to the revolver on the ground and took a step towards it.

"You move, you die." Gertrud warned darkly.

Shepherd stopped and looked at Gertrud again, he seemed skeptical. "You won't pull that trigger. You're no solider."

"I am a soldier." Gertrud stated simply. "You have no god damned idea what I have done or what I can do."

This interested the General now. "Really then? Alright, I'll indulge you, kid. You want to play solider, then here's a mission scenario for you: The enemy has incapacitated your allies and is now going to retrieve his weapon, if you think you can do so... neutralize the enemy. Pull that trigger: You're life hinges on a life or death decision. "

"I've made a lot of those before, this will just be yet another to add to the list." Gertrud said at last.

"Valkyrie! Stand down and fall back!" Ghost ordered. He tried to stand, but his head was still spinning, he couldn't find his balance.

"Run!" Roach groaned a warning to Gertrud in a pained voice, still trying to slow the bleeding from his wound.

Gertrud ignored the warnings of Ghost and Roach. Soap tried to call out as well, but he was too busy coughing up blood to give a warning to her. She kept her eyes dead on Shepherd. Her grip on the pistol tightened. She was ready, she could feel it. Her eyes hardened and narrowed on Shepherd, as Shepherd just stood and waited. Finally she squeezed the trigger.

A click indicated that a jam in her pistol occurred. Too much water in the firing action has rendered it useless. Gertrud inspected her pistol quickly as Shepherd approached her; she racks the slid and tries to fire, but it's useless. Taking off her helmet she tosses the pistol at Shepherd and prepares to bludgeon the old man with her head gear. Shepherd sidesteps the pistol flying at him and blocks the blow she readied. With one hand grabbing her wrist, the other grabs her throat. Gertrud's surprise soon gives way to frustration, her eyes glaring at Shepherd as he slowly cuts off her airway. She manages to kick him a few times in the shin, but Shepherd doesn't relinquish his hold on her.

A curious look washed over Shepherds eyes as her looked her in her face. He recognized the look in her eyes, one of a soldier who had fought many fierce battles, the look of a warrior sent through the meat grinder, the look of someone who ended life on battlefields.

"So you are a solider then..." Shepherd said at last. "To bad you're an enemy combatant."

Shepherd noticed a large rock laying in the dirt about two meters away. He suddenly thought of a solution for dealing with this mystery girl. He ushers her close to the rock as she struggled in his grasp. Ghost knew what the American General was about to do, he was getting to his feet in a determined grunt, determined to stop the General.

"Leave her be Shepherd!" Ghost warned.

Ignoring the Lieutenant, Shepherd lifted the young woman up into the air, causing her to bleat loudly, her legs kicked wildly as they left the ground. He then slammed her back down to earth, her head impacting the rock. She was eerily silent. Triumphant, Shepherd turned around to face Ghost, only to be met with a hammer blow to the head. Ghost was screaming in rage, his voice roaring like that of a madman. Shepherd was met with repeated blows to the face as Ghost unleashed his fury on him. Ghost began gaining ground, grabbing Shepherd and bringing his knee into the older man's gut, until finally tossing the man to the ground in the other direction. Shepherd stumbled and struggled until he was finally on his knees.

"Alright... on your feet..." Ghost's voice sounded darker than normal, laced with rage as he steadily approached, his fists clenched and raised to his face. He was ready to empty out all his bottled frustrations and anger. As Shepherd got up to his feet and adopted a fighting stance, Ghost punched at the General's left temple, the swing impacting.

"This is for Scarecrow..." He follows up with a left. He begins rattling off fallen members of the Task Force as he throws punches that connect squarely; each blow he throws is in their name. "This is for Ozone...for Mamba ...for OZ... for Gladius... for Reaper." Shepherd tries to counter with a strike of his own, but Ghost blocks it with his arm and quickly counter-attacks with an elbow strike. "That one was for Price." Shepherd throws another blow, but Ghost ducks under it and counter-attacks again, a right hook to Shepherds wounded torso elects a pained grunt from the older man. "That was for Soap." Ghost presses on with a roundhouse kick to Shepherds head. "That was for Roach!" His thoughts then turn to Gertrud...and something then snaps inside him. "THIS ONE'S FOR TRUDY!" His next attack rekindles in ferocity as he angrily throws a combination of punches to Shepherds head, neck and torso. He furiously blocks any counters that Shepherd tries to throw at him. He seems to have the upper hand against the General. "This is for the 141!" Ghost strikes Shepherd with a push kick and then tackles the old American to the ground. He finally starts striking the backstabbing traitor in the face with alternating left and right hooks, emphasizing his words with each punch. "AND THIS. IS FOR. PISSING. ME. OFF!" Ghost finally starts trying to strangle the old geezer to death, a burning hatred glowing in his eyes for the man he is slowly trying to kill.

As he struggles for breath, Shepherds eyes dart next to his right, and he starts to reach for something. Ghost's eye's follow, seeing him grab the magnum again. In their fight, Ghost had pushed the General back to his weapon.

"Shit!"

Ghost and Shepherd struggle for control of the magnum. Ghost is starting to feel fatigued. Shepherds revolver slowly creeps towards Ghost's body. Ghost knew he couldn't hold the pistol away at his current level of strength, so instead, he decides to take one for the team. He directs the barrel of the General's revolver to his shoulder sticks his thumb over the General's trigger finger and pushes down.

The discharge of the revolver rings out followed by the round entering, and then leaving his shoulder. Blood spatters out from his wound and he knocks the pistol from the General's grasp, finally falling back and grasping his shoulder.

"Through and through." Ghost groaned.

Shepherd tries to get up again, but is suddenly tackled by a half awake Price. Shepherd is starting to tire of this fight. Hell it wasn't even a fight anymore; it had broken down into a desperate, pathetic brawl. He rolls Price off and then mounts him, punching the half conscious Task Force Operator. Price quickly blacks out again, as more bruises appear, in addition to a bleeding mouth as Shepherd continues to beat the old Captain to death.

* * *

><p>Soap weakly opens his eyes again. Looking around, he can see the desperate and dire position the 141 was now in. Roach was shot, Ghost was shot, Gertrud had her head bashed up against a rock and Price was slowly being beaten to death by Shepherd. His vision was hazed and he felt weak. Worst of all, he had no weapon.<p>

_Damnit...just how can I end all this?!_

He then noticed the knife buried in his chest. He stared at it for a while when a thought suddenly crosses him. Grabbing the handle with his right hand, he tries to pull it out. The blade is buried deep, and his body painfully protests in this action, but he continues. Slowly and painfully, the knife starts to come out. Taking his other hand, he pulls further and the knife finally comes out of his chest. Once the knife is freed from his body, his left arm came to rest on the ground as he flourishes the knife in his grasp. He holds the blade in his hand and takes aim with it at the General. The general is still unaware as to what Soap has planed. It's a onetime long shot, but Soap figures that after Price's long shot, perhaps he'll also get a solid hit. He readies his last ditch effort, preparing to throw the knife...

Captain McTavish whispers weakly. "Shepherd."

Shepherd looks up from Price to Soap, only to see a combat knife leave Soaps hand... the blade tumbling end over end right at him...

* * *

><p>After finishing his meal, Ramirez sighed contently and pulled his balaclava back down over his mouth. He could tell that it was Miyafuji's cooking. Only two people who could make a meal worth having seconds for were her and his mom back home. He remembered the story that his dad told him of how they both met and how the two of the got married.<p>

His father; Orlando Ramirez, was an up and coming Police Officer, and his mom was an aspiring cook who wanted to open a restaurant kiosk in the local mall. They ran into each other while he was off duty and they hit it off, and pop really got into her cooking. James's mom believed in using only the freshest ingredients for her meals, always storing them properly, never using old, rotten and tainted foods and always putting her heart into the meals she prepared. They were good, but that little bit of love that she put into every ounce of food she prepared made the difference. When it came to cooking, she never cut corners. And mom fell for the old man because he was one of the few officers in the prescient that was friendly, approachable and actually cared about the people in his community. Their were some cops who were either too focused or concerned about their careers, bullies with a badge that abused their authority a little too much, or at best, were well meaning but less then helpful. Dad was the one of the few cops that actually got results, even law abiding citizens that otherwise disliked cops liked him. Dad fell for the talented cook and her cooking, mom fell in love for the good hearted police officer, and after a few years of dating they tied the knot. The rest, as dad said, was history. James laughed quietly as he recalled that story.

"Ah man. Yoshika makes good meals dude. She really puts her heart into the food she makes."

Dunn nods as he finishes the various assortment of sushi. "Yeah, it tastes pretty fresh, and I don't even like sushi!"

Foley take sip of tea from a cup and sets it down on the floor of their cell. "Well, at least that's a plus, given our situation."

The Private of Hunter-2-1 pushes the tray aside and relaxes against the wall of the cell. "Hope those girls can get us out of here and fast, I'm getting cramps just sitting on my ass in this joint."

"I'll call you're cramps and raise a bout of boredom." Dunn quipped.

"Jin." Ramirez joked.

Foley grins as his men continue to lighten the mood with a little levity. "Keeping up moral I'm guessing?"

"Only if you don't mind Sarge." Dunn replies respectfully.

"Well, you're at ease then. A little morale boost will do wonders for us."

Ramirez frowns slightly. "It would be better if we weren't behind bars."

Foley turns to the Private and offers him encouragement. "Just be patient, Private. The girls will think of something."

"If you say so Sarge."

The sudden sound of a door opening in the confinement wing garbs the Ranger's attention, though they relax a little when they see Shirley. She approaches the jail cell with a cheerful smile on her face. She takes a chair sitting up against the wall and moves it towards the bars of the cell and takes a seat.

"Hey guys! How are you doing?"

"So far so good, but then Krupke hasn't dragged us out for whatever plan he has brewing." Foley replies.

"So Shirley, why are you here for?" Dunn inquires.

"I wanted to check up on you guys and see if you three are doing alright. The others are going to set a meeting in a few minutes to figure out a plan to get our all out of here. Sorry about all this, didn't expect it would turn out like this, ya know."

"Don't worry, we'll manage." Foley replies reassuringly.

Ramirez gestures over to the empty trays. "Also, great meals as always; tell Miyafuji thanks for us. Just wished we could get another helping." He adds ruefully.

Shirley's smile broadens. "I'll be sure to let her know. Believe it or not, she likes cooking for others."

A sudden thought comes to Dunn and he ponders it for a moment. After a moment passes he approaches the bars of the cell and sits cross legged, asking the young witch a question.

"Hey, Shirley, you're last name is Yeager right?"

"That's my name, don't wear it out." The Liberion Witch quips. "Why do you ask?"

Dunn shrugs. "Well, it's just that there's a man by that name who was a really big deal back home during the Second World War."

Shirley raised an eyebrow in interest. "Is that right? That's interesting, tell me more, I'd like to hear about him." She asked.

Foley grinned and looked up thoughtfully, recalling the history classes he took back from high school and military history courses when he enlisted. "Ah yes... Military history: Charles Elwood "Chuck" Yeager, born in 1923, hailed from Myra, West Virginia. Served in the United States Air force from 1941 to 1975, flew the P51D during the Second World War and is considered a highly decorated war hero and a holder of both air and altitude records. Hell, Chuck broke the sound barrier October 14, 1947."

The young witch beamed. "So did I, I broke Mach one with Merlin, my Striker unit. I also broke the land speed record on the Bonneville Salt Flats. And I was also born in West Virginia."

Ramirez grins. "Bonneville Flats? I had a friend who used to race there during the summer."

Dunn however, seemed interested in Shirley's statement. "Wait, YOU broke Mach One?"

Foley also became intrigued, pulling himself closer to the bars of the cell, alongside Dunn. "What was your father's name?"

Shirley was confused a bit, but obliged Ranger's with an answer. "My dad's Albert Hal Yeager."

"And... siblings?" Foley asks hesitantly.

Shirley's face becomes somewhat suspicious. "Two brothers and two sisters...is there a reason you're asking?"

Foley and Dunn's eyes widen a bit and their gaze slowly shifts to each other. They confer to one another as they review everything.

"Same last names." Foley notes.

"Both fly P51's, technically." Dunn adds.

"Both broke Mach one."

"Both born in the same state."

"And they both have the same father AND siblings."

Ramirez looks at his squad mates questioningly. "Is there something I'm missing here?" He asks.

Dunn draws the Private close, pulling the younger man by his combat jacket and whispering to him. After a moment, the Privates eyes also bulge wide.

"Wait... you mean that-"

"Yeah." Dunn replies quickly.

Ramirez points to Shirley. "And you're saying she's-"

"Affirmative." Foley says abruptly.

Shirley now looks at the Rangers with confusion. "Alright boys, what the heck has gotten into you three?"

Ramirez answers her in shocked disbelief. "You're Chuck Yeager!"

"BUT AS A CHICK!" Dunn puts in loudly.

Shirley's face falters a bit as her eyes widen and her face turns beat red. "W-what?! You mean in your world I'm... a guy?!"

All three Ranger's of Hunter-2-1 nod in unison. Shirley's face paled in horror. Uncomfortable and embarrassed looks cross the faces of the Ranger's, and the men slowly back away from the cell bars. They quietly wait for the young witch to respond to this surprising discovery, but all they get is stunned silence from her. After a while, her eye's roll back into her head and she falls off of her chair, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

Dunn worriedly approaches the bars and tries to see if she's alright. "H-hey, Shirley; are you alright? Yeager? Hey Yeager!" He turns back to the other men, wearing a worried look. "I think she just fainted."

"No kidding." Ramirez replies.

"I don't blame her." Foley put in. "I'd imagine that would be a lot to take in."

Ramirez sits cross-legged and turns from the fainted witch to his squad mates. "So, now what? Should we do something?"

"We could if we weren't behind these damned bars." Foley sighs.

Dunn's face grows somewhat hopeful. "She'll have a nasty headache, but overall she should be alright. I just hope she wakes up before someone walks in on this."

* * *

><p>Things are unusually quiet, save for the sounds of wind blowing and pained groans. As he keeps applying pressure to his wound, Ghost painfully gets to his feet and approaches Roach lying nearby. He takes a knee and looks his friend over.<p>

"Are you hurt bad mate?" He asks worriedly.

Roach grunts. "Nothing but a little déjà-vu, god I almost forgot how much this hurts!"

"Hang on I'll patch you up." Ghost tries to administer fist aid, but Roach bats his hand away and waves him off.

"I may be shot but I'll handle it. I'm more worried about Gertrud."

"Trudy? Where is she?!" Ghost asks, concern ringing in his voice.

Roach gestures over to this right. "Thier."

Ghost follows the Sergeants pointing finger and quickly hustles towards Gertrud. He takes a knee next to her and checks her over for injury. As his hands travel to her head and neck, she groans, flinching in pain. Her eyes slowly open and she looks to Ghost.

"Lieutenant..."

"Are you alright Barkhorn? Are you hurt bad luv?"

Gertrud's hand travels to the back of her head, wincing she pulls it away, a swath of blood covers her palm. She smiles ruefully.

"It seems so... I'm sorry. I thought you and you're squad could use some help."

"Just promise to be more careful next time alright?"

Gertrud nods slowly. "I will, Liuetenant."

Ghost hesitates for a moment, until at least speaking in earnest. "I'm glad you're still with us luv."

Gertrud looks to the Lieutenant profoundly. "If I'm going to be stuck here for a while, I'm glad that I'm stuck here with you and the 141. You fought so well, with strength, honour... I'm humbled just being in the presence of you all..."

Ghost can't help but smile at the praise of the young witch. "It's nothing Captain; we're just doing what we do best. And as far as I'm concerned: today, you are as every bit 141 as we are."

Gertrud raises her blood soaked hand to Ghost, smiling. "Forged in Fire..."

Ghost takes his hand, already soaked in blood from his wound and grasps Gertrud's extended hand. "Bathed in blood..."

"Side to side."

"Back to Back."

Roach laughs as he slowly drags himself over to Ghost and Gertrud while in their "moment". He lies on his side and extends his hand to them, winking. "No one fights alone." He declares.

Ghost quickly takes Roaches hand and tires to help him up. "Hey mate; you need me to patch you up."

"Sure, that is if you two are done with that little bonding moment just now." He jokes, grunting as his injury bites suddenly.

Ghost quickly takes out a bandage from the younger mans webbing and starts treating him with Gertrude helping to hold medical equipment. As Ghost is treating the younger operator, Gertrud turns to Ghost questioningly.

"What happened to Shepherd?"

A weak voice interrupts their thoughts, a ragged, tired sounding groan of Captain Price is heard, and the three soldiers turn to find Price, coughing as he pushes the body of the American General off of him. Shepherd had a knife imbedded in his eye socket, blood forming around his head. After rolling over Price weakly called out to Soap after spotting his protege resting on the ground.

"Soap...Soap!"

Ghost calls out to the old Captain as he continues tying up Roaches wound. "Are you doing alright over their Captain Price?"

"I'll live; I'm going to give Soap a hand."

"Roger, I've got Roach and Valkyrie over here."

Price starts covering Soaps wound with a handful of gauze and ties it up with a bandage. Soap drifts in and out of consciousness as the older man patches him up. Looking to the others, he grins weakly. After Ghost finally patches Soaps wounded up, he quickly but carefully bandages Gertrud's injured head, once finished, he clips her ACH helmet to her chest rig. As Price finishes patching up Soap he can hear the sound of a little bird approaching. The small aircraft lands nearby with Price recognizing the pilot stepping out of the cockpit. Price turns back to Soap and helps him up.

"It'll hold for now. Come on, get up!" As he slowly helps MacTavish over to the helicopter, he sees Nikolai step out of the cockpit towards them, shielding his eyes from the sandstorm. "I thought I told you this was a one-way trip!" he chastised sternly.

Nikolai appeared somewhat grim at Prices statement. "Looks like it still is...they'll be looking for us you know..."

Soap stumbles, Nikolai quickly catches him and helps Price carry the injured man over to the Little bird. Price speaks to the Russian man with a pressing tone.

"Nikolai, we gotta get Soap and the others outta here..."

Nikolai nods, giving a quick grin reassuringly. "Da - I know a place."

Price turns to Ghost and calls over to him as he hands Soap off to Nikolai. "Riley, if the others are patched up then let's get them on the Little Bird."

Ghost salutes the old Captain briskly. "Yes sir!"

"Riley?" Gertrud turns to the Lieutenant with a confused look as Ghost retrieves his Sunglasses.

"That's me luv. "Ghost" is just my call sign. Same with Roach and the other members of the Task Force..." He is silent for a moment as he studies his sunglasses. "Good, still not broken, that's good, these were damned expensive..." He mutters. He places them back on his face and turns back to help both Roach and Gertrud up, they both use him as a human crutch as he looks to Gertrud. "I should introduce myself proper like: Lieutenant Simon Riley, call sign "Ghost", at your service luv."

Roach is surprised that the Lieutenant is giving out his name like that while in uniform, but he chuckles and looks to Gertrud looking elated. "While we're at it: I'm Sergeant Gary Sanderson, call sign "Roach", the Lieutenant and I have been through a lot of battles and close calls together. I guess this makes number one hundred and something on the list."

Gertrud is caught off guard a moment when both men give their full names, but she smiles broadly. She knows that now they had accepted her as one of their own. It was a good feeling to know that they trusted her enough to be so open to her. She felt comfort that even if she was trapped in this world that she still had people to depend on... people she could trust.

"It is good to meet you both." She says warmly.

* * *

><p>Uttarakhand is a state in the northern part of India, often referred to as "the land of the gods" due to the many holy temples and pilgrimage centers that are found around the state. The Himalayas run through it, and is divided into a total of 13 districts. It also has a high density population. Geography of the region is 93% mountainous and 64% is covered by forest, the Northern most region is covered in Himalayan peaks and Glaciers and the state is home to many animals, plants and rare herbs.<p>

It would have been an overall descant place if it weren't for some of Makarov's men patrolling the Alpine region. They were studying the crash site of a downed helicopter that one of their launcher teams had shot down not too long ago. The men of Makarov's "Inner Circle" consisted of a seven man squad; the men were armed with an assortment of weapons ranging from modernized AK-47's, a pair of PKP's, a Sniper with a Dragunov and the squad leader armed with an AK74. They studied the destroyed fuselage of the aircraft, finding that its pilot and co-pilot were dead, in addition to three men in uniforms that were killed on impact. Another body was found several feet away, a Rifleman that was armed with an M4A1. It seemed to the squad that the two man team that shot down the helicopter was dispatched by the rifleman, who in turn seemed to have succumbed to his wounds. All the same, they had to make sure there were no other enemies left alive.

After they finished searching the aircraft, the squad leader ordered a grid-line formation search of the surrounding area to insure no other survivors had survived the crash. Before the men could get into a line formation and start their sweep, the head of the squad leader disappears in a bloody red mist. Blood, brains and bits of skull flying everywhere, followed by the thundering report from a large bore rifle rolling across the mountains. The men look about the alpine landscape in surprise when another man is felled, a large hole blasting through his chest in a red fountain as his heart is obliterated by a .50cal BMG round.

The sniper of the squad quickly takes cover beside the helicopter; while the majority of the squad drops to the ground, save for a young man armed with an AK47 who takes off running. Another round ends the life of the young squad member, the young man's backbone shattered and his spinal cord severed by the round that strikes him dead center in the back, the voice of the unknown contacts rifle commands attention as it echoes from mountain top to mountain top. A rifleman, a Grenadier and the gunner is all that's left of the snipers squad. The Rifleman turns back to the Sniper with a questioning look.

The sniper knows that the rifleman is wondering where this enemy sniper is. He tries to scan the mountain ranges with the scope of his Dragunov. He knows that the shots are coming from somewhere up on the high ground, like from one of the cliffs of the mountains. He scans any potential vantage points that the hostile sniper may be using to over look this lowland area. After searching he thinks he sees something 3 miles out on a ridge. It's the glint of sunlight, possibly reflecting off a snipers scope. The sniper frowns as he stairs through the scope of his Dragunov: the sniper is somewhat out of range for his rifle to be effective. The riflemen turns back again to the sniper and quietly gestures to him, silently asking in military hand signals where the contact is.

The sniper silently gestures back: _"1 Contact, Sniper, 3 miles out, one o-clock high. Suppressing fire required on target."_

The rifleman nods and signals the gunner to drop rounds on the target, hopefully to try and spook the enemy contact. The gunner isn't sure where the exact location is, and all he has on his weapon is a grip and iron sights, so the likely hood of hitting the enemy at such a range is marginal. The gunner takes position to a nearby stump by performing a low crawl as the Grenadier and Riflemen hide behind their bush. He inches out from his cover and takes aim in the general location of the enemy and let's loose a few sustained bursts of fire. The sniper observes the location of the glinting enemy scope and tires to calculate his shot. Although he'd prefer getting closer to engage, he knows if he moves he will be exposed. So it appears he will have to compensate considerably. First he aims at the glint, and then he calculates distance, elevation, in addition to wind speed, rotation of the earth and humidity of the air. Just as he finishes, a round from the enemy sniper enters the Gunners head, exiting out through the back of his neck, the boom of the large caliber rifle echoes again. The sniper grimaces, he decides to take a shot on the enemy sniper. Once he is sure he's got a shot lined up, he fires.

The Dragunov's crack echoes through the mountain range. Once the echo dies, the sniper waits and listens for retaliation. For a moment there is silence, first five minutes pass, then ten. He sneaks out a moment to glass the target, only for a round to smack into the helicopter just next to his head. He catches a fragment of BMG in his face, cutting his head just under his ear. He curses as his hand shoots to his wound. The Grenadier and Rifleman become panicked. The Grenadier tries to fire a round from his under-slung Grenade launcher, popping up from cover and launching the grenade round high into the air. The sniper recovers and watches the grenade round fly way off target, impacting thirty yards away from the snipers location. Another moment of silence as the Grenadier loads another grenade round. Before things get to quiet, the large bore rifle of the enemy sniper in the distance thunders again and the round set forth kills the grenadier.

The sniper notices that the direction of the echo has changed, the enemy sniper must have displaced for a better shot. The rifleman stands up to run, but another round takes his arm off at the shoulder. The man reels from the shot and hits the ground, painfully clutching his wound. He continues writhing on the ground a moment before he slowly tries to crawl away, but another round quickly finishes him. This startles the sniper, watching his squad mate finished off abruptly like that. He is now alone...

The sniper checks' his Dragunov over for a second and tries to get a bead on the enemy sniper; after a quick scan he sees the glint again, though it seems to have shifted seven meters to the left. The sniper knows that his opponent is intelligent, patient and well trained. The sniper takes aim, adjusting for all varying factors and fires. He waits, and listens. Another round answer's his report, impacting not even two inches from his shoulder into the helicopter, catching more fragments, this time in his hip. He curses and tries again, aiming his rifle a little higher to compensate for distance and elevation. As he squeezes the trigger, his opponents round finds him, his life ended in an instant.

The Task Force Sniper on the ridge holds position patiently while laying prone, knowing full well that the target had gotten a shot off before being killed. The round fired from the enemy Dragonov hits the ground a foot away from the prone form of the sniper, prompting her to turn to the point of impact calmly. She was impressed.

_That was pretty close, got to give you that much. You're a worthy opponent. _

She knew if her target was closer in range he may have had a better time routing her, but luckily she was just out of his effective range. She had a deep, intimate understanding in tactics and the art of engagement and manuver on the battlefield. She was proficient in field craft, stealth, scouting, evasion and above all else she was the most talented Sniper in the whole 141. The only rival she had in Sniping was Captain MacTavish, whom she respected greatly. But she had the ability and skill to reach out and touch someone from miles away while taking near impossible shots to drop her target. From her youth, she had displayed promising skill in marksmen ship, now she was at the top of her form.

She slowly gets to her feet with the M82A1 in her hand. She looks out to the wreckage of the helicopter, and silently pays respect to her fallen brothers in arms, solemnly shouldering her weapon and respectfully bowing her head, her eyes closed. She could hear a large round of peaceful silence. She always tried to live her life with balance; the only intent of her actions was the intent to do good in the world. Whenever she marched into the field of battle, she was a calm, level headed operator. She always carried out her duty with respect for herself, her squad, and her enemy. She chose to live the life of an enlightened warrior.

After paying respects to her fallen squad, their dog-tags tucked into one of her pockets, the Task Force Sniper turns Westwards thoughtfully. She still had to get to the rally point and regroup with the surviving members of the 141. Not wasting any more time, she started her quiet trudge down the mountain in hopes of finding a roadway, all the while keeping all her senses sharp and in tune to her surroundings.

She could always sense when danger was headed her way. And she also knew it takes more than body and mind to fight a war, it also required heart and spirit...

Something she had plenty of...

* * *

><p><strong>Hello everyone! I can't thank all the readers and reviewers out their enough for their support and for providing me their thoughts and feedback. <strong>

**As you can tell, with the conclusion of Chapter 19, the MW2 storyline ends and the MW3 Cannon begins. What's more, Chapter 19 foreshadows a few key events soon to come in addition to the appearance of an OC (Original Character), that I had plans to deploy to the battlefield a while back but wasn't able to introduce until now. **

**With Shepherd now KIA and the Ranger's still held prisoner, things will get more interesting. I'll be getting to work on the next chapter toot sweet, so until then please leave your comments, feedback and reviews and enjoy.**


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Toad slowly trudged through the doors of the stronghold, having dragged Archer through the gates and the courtyard. Earlier he had to pass the guards who thankfully let him through, having been expecting him. Russian Loyalists: men who stood against the tide and do what was right, even if it meant that their own country would disown them, you had to respect honor and principal of that calibre. Toad had been talking to Archer for most of the way, but the old operator said he was getting tired after a while, so for the rest of the trek, Toad let his mentor rest. He hauled Archer down a hall, looking about for a doctor.

"Hey! I need a doc over here!" He whispered to Archer who was still resting silently on his back. "Don't worry sir, we're here, help's coming for ya." He continues down the hall and continues calling for medical aid. "Yo! Medic! Somebody, my friend needs a hand here!"

A Loyalist huddled alongside some of his comrades takes notice of the young Task Force Sniper and hustles over to him. "What's the problem comrade?"

Toad motions at Archer with his head, thankful to see that the man addressing him had a medic cross on his combat vest. "My friends in rough shape; took a rifle round and small arms fire on our way here. Can you help him?"

"I'll have to see, get him on this stretcher first and I'll have a look."

Toad gets Archer on a nearby stretcher and take's a step back, allowing the medic to step in to perform medical aid to the older operator. The medic looks the British man over for a while. He has a bemused look on his face and quickly checks for a pulse. He then sighs and solemnly turns to Toad, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, I cannot do anything for him...he is gone..."

The Loyalist medic's words don't connect to the younger man, the operator seemed somewhat disbelieving. He laughs nervously. "W-what are you talking about? He's just passed out is all; we were talking not even a half hour ago."

But the medics face was still stuck in his grim, apologetic expression. "I'm sorry... he is gone..." he repeated.

Toad's face suddenly shifts into disbelieving shock, realizing that the medic was serious. "But I just talked to him! ARCHER! ARCHER WAKE UP! COME ON DAMNIT WAKE UP!" He tries to shake the older man awake, but the older man does not stir. He felt cold to the touch, his chest did not rise and he wasn't breathing. Toad kept trying to speak to the unmoving body of his mentor in desperation. "Come on sir, after all that you can't just die here now. I carried you all the way here, you can't just give up after all that man, wake up! Come on... please...please...don't do this...please..."

But nothing Toad could say could awaken his mentor. Numbly, Toad backed away from his fallen battle brother until his back met the opposing wall, his eyes fixated on Archer. The medic quietly folds Archer's hands on his chest before turning to the younger man.

"If you need anything comrade, let me know."

Toad doesn't reply, his mind was distant, lost in his own thoughts. The medic sighs heavily and leaves the young man alone. Toad slowly sinks to the floor, the blood on his guillie suit and uniform leaving a messy red trail on the wall behind him, all of the blood having belonged to Archer. After a moment of stunned silence he starts weeping. Toad had lost a teacher and a friend today. His anguish was crippling. He thought he could save his mentor, that if he just pushed himself and did his job that things would turn out alright. But instead it was all for naught. Now all he wanted to do was have a nice, long cry. He spent a long time crying until finally he tries to calm himself. The tears kept flowing but silently he stood up and approached Archer's body. He unshoulders one of the MK14's from his back solemnly and places it in Archer's possession. A solider never surrenders his weapon, and an artist always keeps the tools of his trade close at hand... even in death.

He soon hears the sound of footsteps approaching slowly. He slowly turns to find the approaching person just as they stop right next to him. He recognizes the face of a young Japanese-American woman, wearing a Task Force uniform and holding the rank of Sergeant, with an M82A1 shouldered on her back; her hair dyed blue and pulled into a messy, Emo-style ponytail.

She looks to him respectfully and speaks a greeting to the young operator. "Toad."

Toad exhales shakily, struggling to keep his voice neutral in tone. "Scope."

Scope looks to Archer's body with a sad look in her eyes. She slowly approaches the dead marksmen and places her hand on his head in a gentle manner. She could sense a sudden moment of loss a while ago, but she didn't know what it was until now. It was a disheartening sight. She, Archer and Toad had often gotten into friendly rivalries over who was the best crack shot in the 141. Who could shoot the farthest, who could strike with the most accuracy, who was the better at scouting, sniping and counter sniping. And even then, there was never any bad blood between the three of them. They were all good at what they did. It was a sad day to see one of her own no longer with them on the journey of life. Even despite what she knew now after years of trying to find herself...

"Oh, Archer..." She sighed.

Toad finally manages to steady his voice, wiping his eyes clear of the tears. "Long time girl... wish it was at a... better time..."

"Me too..." She agrees solemnly.

"So... how'd ya manage your way to get here?" He asked curiously.

"My team's bird got shot down. Both the pilots, Coffin, Herald and Poet were killed on impact. Aeon, died giving me time to find a vantage point so I could route the patrol sent to sweep our crash site. He managed to get the guys that shot our bird down though... so I owe him for that..." Her voice trails off for a moment as a bizarre look floods her face, her eyes close slightly as she rolls her head to the side, as if struggling to hear something. After a moment she nods, as if something was just confirmed for her as she continues. "After I took out the patrol, I managed to find a road a few miles away and commandeered a car to get here... how about you?"

Toad's mouth shifted at seeing the strange gesture Scope had made with her head. For as long as he could remember, there was something weird about the Sergeant that he couldn't quite place his figure on. She had a bizarre outlook and even weirder understanding of the world and life. What she was on and off battlefield was two completely different things. Off the field she was extremely laid back and friendly to a fault, but when on the battlefield she was a different person: calm, level headed and professional. She had her shit squared away and she was rather intelligent and insightful. But even with her weird personality, she was good hearted. He didn't hate her, but he found it hard to find common ground with someone as strange as her. But regardless of that, he still felt sorry for her loss. He knew the feeling all too well, loosing comrades in arms always struck heavy blows.

Toad scoffs bitterly. "Would you believe Archer and I ran a marathon to get here? After getting in contact with Captain Price, his men got on our tail and some of the bastards managed to tag Archer a few times, so I had to carry him the rest of the way. A lot of good that did..."

"It's not you're fault, you did everything you could." She turns to Toad wraps an arm around him, looking concerned. "Are you going to be okay?"

Toad shrugs, looking lost. "Maybe..."

"If you need any help, me and the others will be here, you know. We're family and family looks out for one another." She releases her hold of Toad and gives a subdued, sincere smile. "He'd be proud of you, you know that right?" she added.

"I know..."

He knew she meant well, but Toad just wanted some time alone. Scope, seemed to sense this and opted to give him some space to work through his emotions. Before she decided to go, she looks at him with calm urgency.

"Are we the only ones here?" She asks.

"As far as I know, maybe the others are... still enroute..."

"You're probably right... I should get restocked and hydrated in the meantime. Want me to get you anything?"

Toad shakes his head. "I'm alright."

"Alright then, I'll back in a few, okay? I won't be far if you need me."

As she starts to leave Toad speaks abruptly. "He talked about you a while back." She turns to Toad questioningly, which he clarifies with unease. "Archer I mean... spoke about you highly and everything: said I could learn from you or something like that."

Scope smiles warmly. "We all learn something new from each other, so that we may grow and develop into better people. Such is life. That's how it is. Nothing more, nothing less: just a journey of learning and doing good with our knowledge."

Toad tried to suppress a smile but failed. He marvelled at this weird woman that spoke words like something you'd find in a fortune cookie. It seemed like some sort of wisdom of great meaning but he couldn't make heard or tail of it, and he was quickly recalling how Roach often spoke with fondness about "the sniper with the enlightened mind" as he so aptly put it. And the weirdest thing... she seemed to make Toads loss seem somewhat easier to bear. Almost like just her presence had a healing affect on the heart and soul...

"Roach talked a lot about you too. Before we got dropped off at The Cuscus Mountains he talked non-stop about how much of an impact you left on him. He kept saying he liked how you talked about things. I don't get it myself, but hey, more power to him I guess."

The young sniper seemed surprised. "Really? I never knew that." After spending a moment in thought, she soon bowed her head to Toad happily. "Well, I'm off, please let me know if the others arrive."

Toad nodded. "Will do... and thanks..."

Without any further exchange, Scope turns and marches down the hall with the hopes to get ready for when the time for them to leave comes. She was in a strange state at the moment, saddened to see many of her comrades had fallen, but glad and relived to see one of them still alive, and hopeful that the others were still okay. But still, even now at their rally point, she knew they still had a lot to do. She kept sensing something was going to be coming. She wasn't sure what it was but her head tingled a little. To her that was an indicator of danger, and as she found over the years the more it grew the closer danger was getting, until it changed from a tingling sensation to a full blown pained headache which meant trouble was going to be right on top of her immediately. Fortunately, it hadn't gotten to that stage yet. Others would have dismissed these feelings and indicators but she had come to learn that she had to trust them. To trust in this "sixth sense" would prove to be a helpful guide and warning system.

To ignore these feelings that helped to guide her would be similar to ignoring the commands of a Commanding Officer who was tempered in wisdom, knowledge and experience. To ignore it would be at one's own peril, for if you walk blindly into danger, you are sure to be met with failure...

* * *

><p>Minna looked over the war room, making sure everyone was present for the briefing. She saw that many of the girls had confused looks, but were waiting for the Wing Commander to address them. Captain Clotilda Marwick, Sergeant Major Olivia Rivera, Sergeant Major Jenna and the other uninjured members of the 78th "Tame Witches" Reserve squadron were also present, in addition to Petty Officer Hijikata Keisuke, Sakamoto's right hand man who also served as a liaison between the witches and the Fuso Imperial Navy. He had arrived on base the day before and was given an appraisal of the situation.<p>

Pirrine, Yoshika and Lynne were sitting in a gaggle and quietly whispering to each other, while Lucchini sat cross-legged and smiling. Eila was looking through her Tarot cards as Sanya rested her head on the shoulder of the Sumonus Girl. Erica looked out the window with a board look and her sister Ursula sat beside her quietly with a briefcase in her lap while Minna and Sakamoto stood at the front of the room. Everyone was waiting quietly until finally Shirley walked through the door, wearing an expression of shock while appearing as white as a sheet, laughing nervously as she entered, her uniform dishevelled, she also appeared to have a bump on her head.

Everyone took note of her tardiness and Mio spoke sternly to the Liberion. "You're late Shirley. You've kept us waiting for a while now."

"S-s-sorry, my bad." The buxom girl answered absentmindedly. She seemed shaken as she took a seat in a chair that was just within reach. She nearly fell off the edge as she sat down, flailing for a moment until finally managing to take a seat.

Lucchini noticed how flustered the older girl was and inquired with concern. "Are you okay Shirley? Are you sick?"

"FINE! I'M FINE!" The Liberion girl blurted out. She realized that she just shouted loudly and her voice dropped down quietly as she waved off any further questions. "Don't worry about me." She adds, a nervous laugh escaping her.

Once everyone's attention to Shirley expired, Hijikata appeared grim as he turned to Sakamoto. "I'm not sure how we are able to approach this Major. If we plan on taking a course of action then it must be firm and decisive. Anything less would be pointless."

Mio turned to Hihikata and nodded. "Precisely; that is why the Wing Commander has a solution planned." She looked to her CO with anticipation. "Right, Minna?"

Minna Wilke gave a curt nod in response and takes a step forward to address everyone. "That's correct. To quickly recap the situation: due to the nature of events passed Captain Barkhorn, has been sent to the alternate reality that is home to both the man of Task Force 141 and the Men of Hunter-2-1, with the former being sent back along with her. It's assumed that she is with Ghost and Roach now, and hopefully they will help keep her safe until the find a way to bring her home. In addition, the men of Hunter-2-1 are currently being held prisoner by Karlsland General Ekkehard Krupke. While these men were brought to our world due to circumstances beyond their control or ours for that matter, it was an act of humanity and good faith that we allowed them onto our base as guests, and on top of that they had proven to be cordial and even so far as helpful to us on our mission to secure Ground Zero. However, due to the actions of General Krupke the men of Task Force 141 appeared to have been pressed to take action to defend themselves, prompting the Rangers of Hunter-2-1 to follow their lead out of necessity. It was a situation that didn't need to occur but it has, and has left Sergeant Foley and his men in the custody of the General."

Minna paused quietly as the room's occupants hung on her every word. They silently waited for her to continue, which she did at last, her voice carrying great weight as she explained.

"For those who don't understand or are unfamiliar, General Krupke is descended from a long line of Karlsland military commanders and tacticians. At one time they were highly respected for their knowledge in military tactics and strategy, but favouritism has turned members of the family to arrogant hubris. What's more they hold contempt to witches, with General Krupke being the most blatant of his family in this regard. Despite that, however, many of the brass give him a long leash to work with because of the quality of his men and the success of his operations."

"In short he gets the results HQ wants and everything else they could care less about." Erica notes bitterly.

Minna sighs. "I suppose one could argue that..."

Captain Clotilda Marwick looks to the Wing Commander questioningly. "I'm unsure if we should get involved in this Wing Commander. The General was sent by HQ to ascertain the situation and gauge the men from the other reality using any means necessary. Despite what some of us think, it's out of our hands."

Minna turned sternly to the Lieutenant of the Tame Witches. "Not so Lieutenant. A true solider must act in a manner becoming of the uniform. They must uphold a degree of honour and respect that is of the highest level. The Krupke family has forgotten this, as demonstrated by the actions of General Ekkehard Krupke. They think only of entitlement, and are blinded by static, close-minded and dangerously stubborn ways of thinking. A commander of men must be more fluid and adaptable in their mindset. Therefore it is my duty as Commanding Officer of this base to report to those higher in the chain of command on the Generals questionable actions."

"So, what's the plan here exactly mamm?" Olivia questioned curiously.

Minna continued in earnest. "I will need to go over the heads of a lot of people to find someone sympathetic to our current situation. I've tried to make contacts to those at HQ, but I have reason to believe that one of Krupkes contacts there is preventing any progress that we are trying to make for the men of Hunter-2-1. The only choice left is to go over the heads of those back at Headquarters and directly to a member of the Joint War Cabinet."

Everyone in the room went rigid, a few gasps escaped some of girls and Hihikata gulped audibly. They realized that this was going to be a very serious matter to undertake; to step over so many toes to go straight to the top for the aid of one of the Commanders in charge of the battle theaters? They knew that it would mean trouble should Krupke discover this, or the reactions of those who may disapprove of the witches. Either way, there was a high likely hood of fallout.

Eila had a Tarot card in her hand, she could see it giving warnings of danger and pleading for caution. She placed the card to her forehead as she opened her mind's eye. A sudden vision flashed into her mind and then quickly subsided, but it was a dire warning overall.

Minna noticed Eila and knew that the Suomus girl's ability became active just now. "What did you see, Eila?" Everyone else turned to Eila, looking on in intense anticipation.

Eila frowned; her eyes carried a serious look to them. "I saw a vision of what happens if we fail... it's not good." She left her statement hang in the air, not wanting to elaborate on what she saw just now.

"Then we must do what we can to make sure that it doesn't come to pass." Minna declared at last.

"So what do we do?" Yoshika inquired pleadingly.

Lynn became disheartened, unsure if they could really be of any help to Commander Minna and her plan. "I'm not sure if we can even do anything."

Minna smiled. "Not to worry everyone, I intend to get in contact with 1st Baron Dowding, commander of Britannia's RAF Fighter Command and see if I can get his support, or at least see if he can convince someone higher up to help us resolve this problem."

"Ah, Air Chief Marshal Hugh Dowding!" Lynn exclaimed, realizing who Minna intended to contact..

Everyone was surprised and their expressions showed it. Minna intended to get help from the man responsible for creating the Joint Fighter Wings. If they can get support from him, it is possible they could find this situation somewhat easier to manage, providing there wasn't anyone in an equal position of power to impede him.

"Correct, but while I do that, I'll need the help of everyone here for dealing with Krupke and his men on base here. Unless we stall whatever plans he has in mind for the men of Hunter-2-1, he could do something drastic. Therefore, I have arranged for the Rangers to be submitted to full series physical and medical exams followed by a complete psychiatric evaluation with a number of the girls serving as escorts for them. Doing this would help buy us much needed time and prevent Krupke from putting his plans into action."

"What about getting Ramirez and the others home?" Lucchini asked worriedly.

Minna turned to Ursula and addressed the Karlsland inventor, deferring the next phase of plans to her. "Ursula, the floor is yours."

"Thank you mamm..." Ursula stood up from her seat and placed her case on the table as she addressed everyone. "After studying the anomaly, my team and I have found that wormholes that are formed by means of magic are creating bridges to the reality that the Rangers are from. However these bridges are highly unstable and travel between worlds is at this point not very easy due to the fact it's hard trying to determine the where and when a bridge forms or how long it will last. I managed to construct a devise using a formula that relies on Scientific and Magical theory, coupled with a miniaturized version of a Striker Engine and a computing system that my team has dedicated to the measurement and calculation of magically formed anomalies. I call these devices Mana-Anomaly-Precession-"Pace-Setter"-Device's or "MAPPD" for short. The first prototype was amazingly successful but is now in possession of the Task Force. Fortunately, I had developed a second prototype after developing the first, which we can allow the men of Hunter-2-1 use of to get home. I'm planning on building a few others as backups in case something should happen to the first prototypes and to run further testing."

"And these devices really work?" Perrine inquires.

Ursula nods, but opens her briefcase and produces some diagrams and other documents. "The only problem as of thus far is that they can only operate in a limited capacity. I haven't figured out a way for the MAPPD devices to form wormholes or how to keep a wormhole stable due to the lack of testing and the fact there is too little information. All that they are currently capable of is calculating the optimal conditions in the moment a wormhole forms and the stability of said wormhole and the ideal time for the devise to transport the user or users at a given time to a location from which the points in both realities connect."

There is a moment of silence until one of the reserve witches speaks out, a young corporal who was a part of the tank witch squad. "That... sounds complicated..." she says at last.

"But of course, we're dealing with advanced scientific and magical, inter-dimensional theory here. In its very nature it is complicated. But despite this we must take action ASAP."

Minna nods and speaks to the room again. "That's right, and not only for the sake of the Rangers either. It's been brought to both my attention and to the Major that Krupke intends to carry out a plan to dismantle witches, much like how Maloney had attempted several months before. We are uncertain of what exactly his plan in this regard entails, but it is never the less suspect. All I want to know is if everyone is up to the challenge."

Wing Commander Minna Wilcke fell silent and waited for a response to both her girls and the young women of the reserve witch. The atmosphere was heavy now that Minna's plan was imparted to everyone in the room. No one made a move at first as glancing eyes traveled from wall to wall and person to person. The young wing commander seemed disappointed at seen such hesitation, but she figured that she should have expected it. What she had planned was a huge gamble. Then quite suddenly, the youngest member of the 501st leapt to her feet, looking more fired up than ever before. Lucchini's voice rang out as she made her stance known.

"I'm ready! Ramirez and the others need our help! They are good people and I don't want to see anything bad happen to the three of them! I promise I'll do my best!"

Everyone turned to the small Romagnan girl in amazement, save for Jenna. The tank witch of the Tame Witches just grinned and took a step forward, looking to Minna with an accepting look.

"I'm in. Those Rangers's protected Darya when she was hurt. I owe them for that..." She says simply.

Yoshika also stood from her chair in determination. "Mamm, I want to help too!"

Then Lynn stood up. "Me too!"

One by one, the witches either stood up or took steps forward to answer the call. Hihikata seemed reserved at first, unsure in putting support in this decision, up until Major Sakamoto to a step forward and acknowledged the Wing Commander. He seemed to consider this for a moment until finally taking a step forwards and showing his support.

"Petty Officer Hijikata Keisuke, awaiting orders Wing Commnder!" he said at last.

With everyone ready to put the plan in motion Minna smiled warmly. She felt great pride in the courage of all those in this room, ready to come to the aid of the strangers from another world.

"Very well, it is time to conduct the operation. I will give you all you're tasks and we will put this plan into motion. Remember: in the end, if we help the men of Hunter-2-1, we will be helping ourselves and all the fighter wings. Just do your best and stay focused. Understood?"

Everyone snapped to attention and responded to Wing Commander Wilcke. "Yes Mamm!"

* * *

><p>Reflection. The opportunity to contemplate events that have come and gone: something that the young Karlslander figured many would do if they were in her situation. Gertrud's head was throbbing, and the heavy whipping sound of the helicopters rotor was not making things any easier to do in this regard, but when the pain in the back of her head dulled enough, she had a chance to actually have a moment to think carefully. She, Roach and Ghost were resting on one of the external personnel pods of the helicopter while Soap was strapped down to the other and currently blacked out, with Price and Nikolai in the fuselage, Nikolai being the pilot of the aircraft. They have been in route to the safe house, flying over mountain ranges, deep valleys and winding roads while enroute to another of Nikolai's many safe houses. Along the way, she couldn't help but notice that a few times Nikolai kept looking over to her, appearing confused and suspicious as he turned to look at her a few brief times until at last returning his attention to piloting the aircraft. She wasn't sure if he was in fact surprised or distrusting of her but she found it unnerving.<p>

When she had the time to think about everything, she wondered what the other witches would say, what they would think of the measures she had to take to survive in this world in such a short period of time. She considered what exactly she could possibly say to them, going over scenarios in her tired, fuzzy mind but she feared the outcome, feared how the others would see her if they knew about the human lives she took. She already resigned herself to telling them everything once she found a way home again, but she struggled with a way that she could break the news to them. She sighed quietly. She decided at last to worry about that once she did get back home. Worrying about it now would only further cloud her mind.

The compound that Nikolai had told them all about finally comes into sight and is fast approaching. It's a large structure sitting smack dab in the middle of a large plot of land, mostly of lawn filled grounds and some archways, in addition to a small, makeshift landing area for rotor craft. Gertrud sees several armed men in look out posts along the walls of the safe house, along the grounds and on balconies. Nikolai pilots the helicopter over to the landing area off in the back of the compound and lands the aircraft. Everyone dismounts the helicopter, with Price and Nikolai getting the stretcher Soap was strapped to and unloads the wounded operator from the craft, the young Captain weakly awakens as he tried to figure out exactly where he is. Meanwhile, Ghost helps Roach, carrying the younger man while he clutched his gut painfully. Gertrud dismounted as Price started barking orders to Nikolai.

"Get him inside!" Price ordered, grabbing one end of the stretcher and Nikolai the other while at the same time trying to hold back the severely bleeding wound in Soaps chest. Both men take off running to get Soap medical aid. Ghost meanwhile looks to Roach worriedly.

"Hey Roach how are you feeling?"

Roach grunted. "I'll be better once I get this round out of me sir."

"Consider it done, let's go. Valkyrie, you too, get the lead out."

"Right." she replied automatically.

The group was off at a running pace to get their wounded treatment. Time was ticking and if Soap and Roach didn't get the medical aid that they needed then the outcome would be tragically grim. As they neared the main structure of the safe house, Price continued to urge Nikolai forward.

"Keep moving!" A group of Loyalists in front of a door noticed the approaching operators in surprise. "Out of the bloody way! Get a doctor!" Price barked to them impatiently. They quickly cleared a path with two of them getting doors.

One of the Russian men turns to another and barks an order as the group passes. "Foka, get medical personal on standby, tell them we have wounded."

"Da I'll let them know." The man named Foka yells inside. "WE NEED A GURNEY NOW!"

Price pays little notice to the Russian men and continues into a crowded hallway, a man with a Gurney runs up to them and both men set Soap on the wheeled bed. As they continue to take Soap to medical aid, Price turns to Nikolai for a second, noticing that the Russian informant was struggling while trying to plug Soaps stab wound. "Keep pressure on that wound!"

"I'm trying!" he looks down to Soap and applies pressure to the bloody bandages in a bid to staunch the bleeding. "Hang in there, my friend."

Ghost, Roach and Gertrud followed Price and Nikolai through the crowded hall, passing soldiers that lined the halls, rooms and corridors of the safe house. Many eyes fell on the men of the Task Force, but they lingered longest on Gertrud. She somehow seemed out of place alongside the 141. As Ghost helps Roach through the hall he calls out for help.

"OI! I NEED HELP OVER HERE, I'VE GOT WOUNDED!"

A man who appeared to be a medic rushes over to the Lieutenant and wraps an arm around the Sergeant to keep him standing up.

"I can take him Lieutenant, our medical quarters are upstairs. We will take good care of your friends."

"Thanks mate, just get him patched quickly alright?"

As he passes Roach off to the medic, Ghost notices a familiar figure in a Ghillie suit that just walked into the hallway. He could recognize that face anywhere.

"Toad!"

Toad turned to see Ghost motioning him over and Roach being carried off by a medic. Roach greets the young marksman as they both pass each other. Toad extends his hand to Simon with a tried look of relief. He was glad to see another friendly face, even if it were the skull mask of the Lieutenant.

"Lieutenant, it's good to see that you're still alright. I can't thank you enough for the heads up back there."

"It's good to see you too mate... is Archer around here someplace?"

Toads face buckled, sighing as he began to explain. "Well... I managed to get him here...but..." his voice trailed off sadly.

Ghost knew what that meant all too well. He sighed bitterly. Even with the warning he gave both of the snipers back in the Causcus Mountains, he still lost another comrade in arms. He was starting to tire of seeing good men die. Archer was one of the 141's crack shots. Ghost recalled how the Essex born operator had a very impressive track record, having served for twenty three years in the SAS, and ran many combat ops ranging from Siberia, Somalia and even three years in Afghanistan. The "stan", as many NATO military personnel would attest, was a harsh and soul crushing tour for any solider. It was even worse if you happened to be a squad leader or platoon commander, where you're actions and decisions determined the safety of your subordinates. Stuff like that weigh heavy on a person's mind. Middle Eastern tours managed to chew through squad members significantly and changed the outlooks of many Commanding Officers. Ghost had seen this sort of thing far too often... it was impressive that Archer managed to endure all that hardship, but now... everything just seemed terribly unfair.

"Sorry..." is all he can manage to say.

"Did you... did you guys do it?"

Ghost nods. "Yeah, our objective's complete: we got that bastard."

Toad exhaled."Good, got what he deserved than. No halfway decent American would have tried what he just pulled." Toad notices Gertrud as she looks him over. After studying the young woman Toad gestures over to her direction. "So, who's she? What's her story?"

Ghost shakes his head. "I'll have to fill you in later; right now I have to see about getting my shoulder plugged up."

"Alright, I'll find someplace to crash for a bit then..." Toad turns to leave but looks over his shoulder to the Lieutenant before doing so. "It's good to see ya again LT." He looks at Gertrud again curiously and then leaves.

After Toad takes his leave Ghost turns to Gertrud and motions with his head. It was about time they hauled their butts over to the medical wing to get their wounds treated. The Lieutenant was certain that his bullet wound would need to be sewn up, and it was possible that Gertrud's head wound may require stitches as well.

"About time we got patched up proper ourselves, eh?"

"You'll need it more than I do Lieutenant. You're wound has been bleeding for a while now."

Ghost gestures to Gertrud's head. "Well your injury isn't something to sneeze at either. Getting your head banged against a rock isn't exactly something you can walk off without suffering major problems. "

Gertrud suddenly smiles. "You're that worried for me?" She asks.

The look in Simon's eyes seemed to ask:_"Why wouldn't I?"_As if she asked something she didn't need to ask. "Well head injury is no laughing matter. Rattle the brain with a strong enough blow and anybody would be have a messed up day luv. So what's say we head to the medical wing?"

Gertrud chuckles as if amused by the Lieutenant's insistence that she'd receive medical attention even despite his own injury. "Another day, another wound. Business as usual I guess."

A small laugh escapes Ghost despite himself. "Any day coming out alive is a good day in my book."

* * *

><p>Price and Nikolai rush Soap into a large room that is serving as a makeshift medical wing after having personnel pointing the way to a help. Bursting through the doors with the younger operator in tow, the old Captain's eyes look for anyone who can help, his eyes resting on a man nearby with a medical coverall who notice both men burst through the doors.<p>

"He needs help, now!" Price urges. "He has a stab wound to the chest!"

The man in question notices Soap and the extent of his wounds and curses in Russian as Price ushers him towards Soap. As he starts to looks Soap over he checks the man's pulse and heartbeat and his face becomes panicked. Soap's completely blacked out by this stage, and from the quick evaluation that was preformed it was an indicator to the medical professional that the young Task Force Captain is in grave danger.

"Irregular, rapid heartbeat, blood pressure weakening. He's going into V-fib!"

Nikolai curses. "We're losing him."

"We have a Crash Cart over there, get it now!" the doctor points over to the side of the room at the crash cart.

"Do it, Nikolai!" Price urges.

In a flash, Nikolai runs over to retrieve the Crash Cart as the doctor attempts chest compressions to help Soap along. After returning with the cart, the man in the medical coverall takes a step back as Nikolai charges the defibrillator pads, placing them under Soaps combat vest and shirt, the life signs monitor was quickly beeping in an irregular pattern. Soap's life signs were quickly fading and on the verge of flat lining.

"Charging. Three, two, one. Clear!"

Just as Soaps heart rate is shown stopping the Russian informant presses a button on the defibrillation unit, the unit delivers a shock to the young Captain. His body jerks from the electric shock and then relaxes. The crash carts life sign monitors beeping paused for a millisecond before continuing, the monitor displaying a more regular pattern in heartbeat, though it was still at a quickened pace. The man in the medical coverall rushes into action with a set of surgeons tools. A few nurses and doctors enter the room and upon noticing their collogue tending to a wounded member of the 141 they leap into action as the doc starts giving them instructions while he quickly checks Soap's dog tags.

"We've got a stab wound; get me a couple units of whole blood, O Positive. I'll need some hands on standby to help perform surgery on his injury and close him. He's at the brink so time is life, now move it!"

The medical personnel utter acknowledgments in the affirmative and start working to save Soaps life. As his colleges begin to prepare for surgery, the man in the coverall speaks to Price and Nikolai sternly.

"We will need you both to clear the room, we have a lot of work to do and we need to keep the environment sterile. Please, wait outside."

It's apparent to Price that this man was the head surgeon. Reluctantly he complies with the doctors wishes. "Alright doc, I'll leave the lad in your hands. Do take care of him."

"I'll do what I can Captain."

* * *

><p>Scope had finished stocking up ammo in the armory and exits the room, knowing she needed as much ammo and gear as she could carry. She was allowed to acquire some claymores and some extra .50cal BMG for her M82, in addition to topping up the water bladder that was resting in a pocket in her combat vest. Water to her was valuable and sacred; it was life blood for the body. A person could go weeks, even months without food, but you couldn't go more than 3days without water. A day more would mean eminent death. After getting what she needs she presently hears shouting and urgent voices across the hall and decides to investigate the commotion. She walks the hall for a while and comes to the stairs to the ground floor. She recognizes a familiar face being help up the flight of stairs.<p>

"Roach!"

Roach's eyes look up from his stomach to the voice that called his name. His eyes are wide in surprise, recognizing a familiar face.

"Scope?"

They both stair at each other for a moment, then both start laughing as Scope approaches and gives Roach a hug which the wounded man returns. The medic carrying Roach appears stand offish, appearing a little jarred from the sudden display of affection from the two operators. While in mid hug however, Roach grunts as Scope accidentally puts a little too much pressure on his wound. She pulls away as he utters his pained grunt.

Roach give's a pained chuckle. "Long time no see Scope."

Scope's eyes focus on his wound as a worried look washes over her. "You've been shot! S-sorry!, I didn't notice."

"Don't worry none, after what I've been through this is like getting bitten by a bed bug."

"So what happened? How the hell did you get shot?!"

"That's Shepherds handy work right their. Believe it or not, this isn't the first time I took a round in the gut, and from the same source on top of it."

"Are you feeling okay Roach? Here, let me help you." She starts to help the medic carry Roach, but the young Brit waves her off sheepishly.

"Relax, I'll be fine. You just take it easy a while, let this guy and the other doctors worry about fixing me up."

Scope grins reluctantly. "Alright. I wont be very far if you need a friendly face to drop by."

Roach laughs. "I know. After I get fixed up we can work on catching up, how about it?"

"Sounds like a plan to me."

The medic starts to usher Roach along firmly, not wanting to slow down and waist time in delaying Roach medical treatment.

"Come, the Sergeant needs treatment. Time for reunion and matters of love comes later."

Roach turns to the medic as he is lead to the medical wing. "Matters of what?! How the hell did you come to that conclusion?!"

"Call it my gut."

"Well you're guts right off the mark mate! She's a battle sister and a good friend alright?"

The medic's look of skepticism is clearly written as he ushers the wounded man through the medical wing doors. "If you say so comrade."

"You're damned right I say so!"

Scope can't help but laugh at how flustered Sanderson was getting. Over the years the two Sergeant's had gotten to be close friends after she joined the 141. A few times some of the others teased Roach over getting lucky or some other jab at any moments of bonding that the two shared. Roach always ended up looking beat red, and she was sure that he was turning a healthy shade of fuchsia right now under his balaclava. He was a determined young man and was willing to do his best with everything he did, but he faltered with members of the fairer sex. Approaching girls was one of Gary's weak-points, even as a kid. He was to put it mildly, incredibly shy around women: when he first met Scope he was tripping over his own words and breaking into a cold, nervous sweat, which Scope found kind of funny. Fortunately after a month of social interaction and running a few ops together he overcame that. Scope liked Sargent Sanderson a lot, and now she had started to suspect that he may have had similar feelings if not more. Being the person that she was however, she'd rather let things turn out naturally, go with the flow and let nature take it's course. If something turns out from it, good, if not, then that would be okay too. To her, she was just glad to have such a good-hearted, dependable, loyal friend.

After Roach is led into the medical ward, Price and Nikolai shortly exit the doors of the room and notice Scope, just as Ghost and a girl who was with him reach the top of the stairs. She greets the other men of the Task Force as they approach.

She snaps to attention and salutes the Captain and the Lieutenant. "Price, Ghost, Nikolai! Good to see you all again."

Price wears a look of relief as he returns her salute and shakes her hand. He was glad to see another member of the 141, especially her. "Sergeant Kotoro, it's very good to see you're still with us lass."

Ghost nods. "Same here Sergeant."

Nikolai is grinning ear to ear as he shakes the young woman's hand. "It would have been shame for beautiful solider to fall victim to this misfortune. I'm relived that our enemy's didn't get you."

"A charmer as always Nikolai."

Nikolai chuckles. "I may now be PMC informant, but I am gentlemen after all."

Scope looks about her fellow Task Force Operators when her eyes at last notice the girl Ghost was with. She looks at the mystery girl with a look of interest. She silently studies the strange girl from top to bottom, the young girl she is studying squirms under her gaze.

"Huh." Scope finally turns to Ghost. "So who might this be?"

Ghost is quick to pick up on Scope's sudden interest in Gertrud and introduces the two to each other. "Sargent, this is Gertrud Barkhorn, Code name Valkyrie. Barkhorn this is Yuna Kotoro, codename Scope."

Gertrud slowly raises a hand towards the strange, blue haired, Fuso looking woman in an awkward gesture. "H-hello Sergeant. It's good to meet you."

Yuna shakes the girl's hand, and to her surprise, (and excitement) a sudden, happy feeling washes over her as their hands meet. A sudden, happy tingle courses from her head, along her spine and down to the souls of her feet and back again. She was smiling an incredibly wide, enthusiastic smile and her eyes were lighting up with a pronounced shine. She only had this feeling whenever she met with a particular sort of person... the types of people she could find common ground with or had their own unique gifts that went beyond the physical...

"I have no clue who you are or where you came from... but I like you." the blue haired sniper said at last.

Gertrud gave a nervous smile as Scope continued to shake her hand enthusiastically. She was all too familiar with these sorts of people. The type who were overly friendly and overly laid back.

"A free spirit I assume?"

"That's one way to put it I guess."

Ghost explains. "Roach and I ran into a little trouble back in the Causcus Mountains a week ago and luckily Barkhorn and her friends here managed to give us a hand when we were in need of help."

Scope smiles a toothy grin. "Then she has my gratitude. Thank you, Valkyrie."

Gertrud seemed adverse to Scopes praise and words of appreciation. After what she has been through in this world and what she did to stay alive, she didn't feel deserving in any sort of recognition. When she was a witch she prided herself on her discipline and the training of her homeland. And she took her duties and role in the 501st seriously. But here in this world... none of it seemed important to her anymore. Yuna notices Gertrud's aversion, her smile evaporates while sensing some form of anxiety from the young girl and she turns to Ghost wearing a serious look on her face. Before she decided to question the Lieutenant she becomes curious about Captain MacTavish.

"Is Captain MacTavish alright?" she asks.

Price responds evenly. "Soap's in surgery to get his stab wound fixed up. He's in the hands of the doctors now."

Yuna nod grimlys and speaks to Ghost. "Lieutenant, can I speak to you for a moment?"

Ghost studies the lovely Sniper of the 141 before he realizes what she's hinting at. "I'm guessing alone Scope?"

"Just for a moment."

Price gestures to the two of them and towards the medical room. "Whatever you plan on talking about keep it short Riley. You've still got you're wound to treat so don't take too long, understood?"

"Roger that Price, I'll keep it brief."

The two operators leave the group for a moment and find a room that's out of the way. They walk inside, Scope leading Ghost into the room and closing the door for privacy. She then paces the room thoughtfully and appears ready to say something, before she can get a chance to speak however, Ghost quickly cuts in.

"Look Scope, I know you and the others don't know anything about her or what her story is, but I'll explain everything after everyone gets patched up."

Yuna frowns. "Can I get a word in before you start jumping the gun?" Ghost falls silent and she continues. "Yeah I don't know her, but if she's with you of all people then I know there's a good reason for it. Besides that's not what I want to talk about."

Ghost raises an eyebrow. "So, what is it then?"

"Well first off I'm concerned about her state of mind. Has she seen combat before or is it her first time sir?"

Ghost seems to think on this for a while, wondering how best to give his answer. "Well... that's a bit complicated to answer. Technically she has seen combat, but not like this exactly."

Yuna seemed puzzled, which to Ghost was as surprising as watching an elephant trying to ice-skate. With a person as open-minded and attune to things like she was, to see her baffled was a rare sight.

"No clue what that means but... well sir I have reason to believe she might be developing PTSD. Toad is also seemed to be having trouble with it when I talked to him earlier."

"I noticed. And they aren't the only ones Scope."

"Really? Well who else do we need to look out for Ghost?"

Ghost hesitated for a second but answered firmly. "Roach is also going to need help too."

Yuna flinched. "G-gary? Him too?" She couldn't believe that she missed it. It never even tripped her radar. Roach didn't even seem to be developing any outward symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress. Surprise soon gave way to guilt. She should have picked up on it at some level. How could she have missed it?

"It seems so. I'll have to talk to Price and see what he recommends we should do to help the three of them work through this baggage that's building up for them."

"I agree...I still can't believe I missed Roach's... I should have noticed that!"

"It's not you're fault, he's been trying to hide it but I've seen it when the really heavy stuff hits him, froze up once under fire because of it but fortunetly it didn't last long. Only time its noticeable really. So long as we help them through this the better off they will be. They will need our support more then ever. Unless you were with him for as long as I have then anyone would have missed it... even someone like you Scope." Ghost then quickly changes gears to another subject, not wanting to linger on the topic for too long. "Well at any rate, as hard a bastard as I am even a bullet to the shoulder would make things difficult for me in the field. After that I can fill everyone in on the full details."

"Right. I better not keep you then. I won't let myself off the hook so easy if my delaying you treatment with my inquiries causes you harm in the long run."

"Naw luv, no need to be all repentant, I know you're just concerned about us. Believe me, I've had much worse than this."

Ghost laughed inwardly. If only she and the others knew just how sincerely he meant that when he said it. A past such as his would do more than leave scars on the body. It leaves scars on the heart, mind and soul. He knew that only Yuna Kotoro, or Scope as she was called, could sense "something" that touched the Lieutenant. Something dark and twisted, like she could detect the pain and the suffering that the former SAS operator had been through. She just couldn't figure out what exactly it was. But he knew that she knew that he wouldn't open up. It's not his style. His problems were his own, and he'd keep them buried deep inside and deal with his duties and do his job as usual.

Same shit, different day. Personal problems stay squared away.


	21. Chapter 21

**Just a heads up on another slight revision of chapter 21, mostly pertaining to ****dialog and Clotilda's rank. Thanks again for reading everyone.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 21<p>

Foley was still sitting cross-legged on the floor, still deep in thought while his subordinates were waiting nervously in the cell while trying to put on brave faces. They had spent a day already in confinement and the waiting was starting to become a strain on them. They wanted to get back home for the counter offensive but alas, they were still locked behind bars. Foley had thought of every possibility, outcome and scenario that could transpire while in Krupke's clutches. He was trying to think of a backup plan in case the girls couldn't think of something. Most of them were long shots, but he reasoned that a long shot was better than nothing. The door to the cellblock opening caught the attention of the Rangers. They see Krupke and two of his men approach the cell that held the three American men. Krupke took time to study them, noting that the American Private was holding his I-Pod, but now he was no longer lost in the music that was playing. Instead he turned a hard gaze at the Karlslander until returning attention to his music. He mutters something in Spanish indigently, to which the Karlsland men seem confused. The Corporal meanwhile looked painfully board; his eye's, which were turned up to the ceiling, glanced over to the Private.

Dunn scoffs. "You tell 'em Private."

"What did he say?" Krupke questioned.

Dunn shrugged. "I don't know but probably something you wouldn't like."

Krupke sighed, unimpressed. "Still unwilling to cooperate? You should learn to trust a little more, I'd rather keep this as pleasant and painless as possible."

Foley looks towards Krupke with a stern look. "May I speak freely for a moment?"

Krupke studies Sergeant Foley carefully until at last nodding. "Very well Sergeant."

"I know you intend to take our weapons from us but I'm not sure exactly what you intend to do with them. Think you can elaborate on that?"

"I'm afraid not. The details of this project are on a need to know business." Krupke says smugly.

"And we don't need to know."

"Ah, you catch on quick, Sergeant Foley was it? The details are for my men, myself and my select group of peers and parties of interest to know."

"What makes you think that taking our weapons to use for your own is a better trade off then having the witches fight alongside you're men?"

Krupke's face scrunched up in disgust at mention of the witches. "You may not see it nor all the other doubters and naysayers but there are better ways at fighting Neuroi then having to rely on haphazard children."

Foley drew a frown. "They look like soldiers to me."

Krupke was stoic for a moment, and then speaks in a questioning tone. "Tell me, would you gentlemen do anything to get home?"

Foley thought of an answer carefully. "Damn near..." he said at last.

"Well, perhaps-"

Before Krupke could continue Captain Clotilda Marwick, Jenna, Perrine, Erica and Petty Officer Hijikata Keisuke enter the cell-block and approach Krupke and his men. Erica approaches with Petty Officer Hijikata leading in front of them; Hijikata snaps to attention and speaks to Krupke.

"Sir, Petty Officer Kiesuke reporting with a message sir!"

Krupke blinked. "A message? From whom exactly?"

Clotilda responds professionally to the old Karlsland General. "We have orders directly from Wing Commander Minna Wilcke in regards to the Rangers of Hunter-2-1."

Krupke appeared irked somewhat at this news. "Can this wait Petty Officer; I'm in the middle of interrogating the prisoners."

"I'm afraid that I must Inform the General that all matters regarding the questioning of these men be delayed."

"Delayed?!" Krupke quickly lost patience and started pressing Hijikata for an explanation. "And on what grounds does the Wing Commander have for delaying my interrogation?"

Erica responds in turn. "They haven't been given a full medical evaluation to determine their state of health."

Krupkes face fell flat in surprise, but he soon regains composure. "From what I can see they appear fine, they are well enough for questioning at any rate, so if you don't mind my men and I require peace to continue our work."

Hijitaka looked sternly at the Karlsland General. "What if they are injured or sick? How can we be sure that they are truly in top health for questioning? Or worse still, they have a highly infectious disease or pathogen that could be transmitted to everyone currently on base. And on top of that, how do we know if they have all their faculties to answer your questions?"

Krupke seemed somewhat nervous at these points being brought up but kept pressing. "I-if that's the case then why haven't they received a full medical evaluation when they arrived?"

Erica explains calmly. "Frankly, because we hadn't the time or opportunity to do so sir: We had to debrief both the Rangers and the other two men when they arrived, treat the wounded, feed them, find them living quarters and had to deal with a Neuroi Infiltration. Today is the only real opportunity we have to carry out a medical and psych evaluation."

Hijitaka, Clotilda and Erica saw something in the older man that gave them some relief: Hesitation. The older Karlslander seemed to be buying the charade to a degree. It may not last for long, but anytime they can get from drawing this out the better. A brief look of suspicion crossed the old Karlanders features but Hijitaka recognized it and attempted to neutralize it.

"We will be keeping them closely guarded with a heavily armed guard detail of witches made up from both the Tame Witches and the 501st. If they do plan on escaping then they will have to contend with witches pursuing them with heavy weaponry."

Captain Marwick was holding a Thompson M1928 with drum mag, and Perrine had her Bren. Jenna meanwhile was wearing her land strikers and was wielding her cannon. All three of them brandished their weapons in a manner that intended to convey that they were hot and ready to fire. The three Ranger's squirmed uncomfortably, both Ramirez and Dunn gulped and Foley made an exasperated grunt. This made Krupke seem more at ease, though Hijitaka and the witches were sure that he likely still held resentment towards them for offering to guard the Rangers. But to the Amazement of both the girls and the Petty Officer, Krupke at last conceded.

"Very well then, but in the interest of my mission I will leave two of my men with you to add to your guard detail: provide some extra muscle. And be sure to make this quick, time is of the essence and I cannot afford to waste it."

"Thank you for your patience sir. We will start immediately and while we will need to be thorough during these procedures, we will do our best to not be too long." Hijitaka knew that Krupke would likely have his men accompany them, but it would do little to endanger the Wing Commanders plan. They could still make this work either way.

"Then get started, I will need to make a few calls in the meantime...personal matters." Krupke added. He orders his men to accompany the Armed Escort and then leaves the building.

Once the old Karlslander took his leave, Hijitaka approaches the cell and unlocks the door with the keys to the jail. He motions for the three men to exit the jail, but the younger Ranger's hesitate, the two men eyeing the armed girls and Krupke's men with caution. Foley, in stark contrast, gets to his feet and calmly coxes them from the cell.

"It'll be alright boys, just keep your heads."

Ramirez and Dunn finally follow their Sergeant out of the prison cell. Foley and his men are then ushered out of the building with Hijitaka leading the escort and looking stoic. The Rangers glance around and notice that Krupke's men and all the girls also appeared straight faced. All save for Erica. When Foley's eyes fell upon the young Karlsland girl, she smiled and gave him a reassuring wink. Foley in turn smiled calmly to his two subordinates, letting them know that everything will be fine, so long as they played along. Dunn and Ramirez didn't make much of a response, but the look in their eyes was all the older Ranger needed to see.

* * *

><p>The Task Force was now given a moment to relax and debrief. At this point it was ventured that the rest of the 141 was either dead or in hiding by now, so they would have to continue on with who they had left. Roach had thankfully been given treatment and was now currently stable enough for debriefing. Soap was still in surgery, his fate left to the doctors working hard to save his life. In addition to getting everyone who had injuries tended to, Price had to address the elephant in the room that was Gertrud Barkhorn. He had Ghost start from the very beginning and had him spare no details. The Lieutenant spoke of the Anomaly, the other world, the Witches of the 501st, the Neruoi, the three Ranger's of Hunter-2-1, Krupke's plans, everything. When he finished, the Task Force was sitting in stunned silence. At one point, after getting over his disbelief, Nikolai had one of his fellow PMC's bring Gertrud's Striker Unit into the room as evidence to study. Once he was done, Ghost waited for a response from everyone in the makeshift briefing room. Toad was looking on in unmasked skepticism while Scope silently held her gaze on Gertrud.<p>

Toad was straight faced when he finally managed to respond. "Is this some sort of joke or something? No offense sir, but you expect me to buy that this kid here is a magical girl that fights aliens in a parallel reality? Next thing you'll tell me is she can perform magic tricks, make people disappear, or perhaps saw women in half and maybe finish up the act by escaping a box impaled with swords? "

Roach rolls his eyes. "That's magicians ya bloody yank. She's a witch."

"What? Like with brooms and shit?"

Ghost laughed but there was no enthusiasm when he did. "Hard to believe, isn't it?"

"Of course it is! Do you know how-"

"Insane this sounds?" Ghost interrupted, knowing just what Toad was about to say.

Toad peered at Ghost indignantly, he hated when the LT finished his sentences. That always made him uncomfortable. "Well yeah! This is real life! Not some book, movie or videogame where insaine bullshit is standard. What you're telling us makes no sense!"

"Since when did anyone say that life had to make sense Toad?" Price interjected.

Toad turned to Captain Price in shock. "Price, you're not saying that you are actually buying this are you?!"

Price silently pondered that question to himself for a moment. "I guess even now I don't... but I have to admit there is something about Valkyrie that is, to put it simply...strange. I don't even know really what it is but I know that it's something."

Nikolai sighs heavily. "It is much to take in; even I find this hard to believe."

Roach couldn't believe the amount of skepticism in the room. Even having told Price and Soap and shown them the pictures he had of the other world everyone was still hard pressed to believe the origins of the young witch currently in the presence of the 141. And every time the men argued the validity of the story the formerly headstrong and disciplined Gertrud shrank in her chair. Roach saw her slowly withdraw into a ball in her seat, and he knew why. And it made him angry.

"Oh come on! After all the proof we provided you guys still don't believe us?!" Gary was met with a round of silence in response. He turns to Yuna with a pleading look in his eyes. "Scope... you know we're telling you the truth right? I know it's crazy and might be something out of some D-list TV show but Ghost and I aren't making this up. Hell something like this would be impossible for the two of us to make up for any length of time!"

Scope stands up from her chair and quietly studies Gertrud sitting across from her. She approaches the young witch and inspects her closely, the Sergeant appearing deep in contemplative thought. After a moment passes she places her hand on Gertrud's forehead.

"Excuse me for a moment."

Gertrud nervously squirms at Scopes peculiar behaviour. "W-what are you doing Sergeant?!"

"This won't take long, I promise. Just stay calm."

The Task Force watches Scope close her eyes and appear to go into some sort of trance, her head tiling upwards and her breathing slows. The men in the Task Force are left dumbstruck as to what's going on. Gertrud tried to calm down but she wasn't used to weird behaviour from strangers. Heck she found strange behaviour from friends odd at best. Scope's trance lasts for about five minutes, the whole time there was nothing but silence. As the trance she was in seemed to end she approached the Strikers at the end of the room and laid her hand on them. Her brow furrowed, and she seemed to partway enter another trance, her hands traveling over the strange machine before her. Once her hands leave the strikers, she turns back to the group.

"I have heard and seen many strange things in my life, but this sits at the very top of the list. They say the stranger the story the more true it is." She then laughs as she continues. "So seeing as this is the weirdest and wildest of them all: it is the truth."

Toad looked at Scope sternly. "And what makes you think that's the case?" he asks.

Scope shrugs. "I don't need to think. I can sense it."

"Sense it!? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Instantly after he asks Toad suddenly waves his hands in rejection. "No, you know what forget it. Forget what I said Madam Confucius, I forgot who I was talking too."

Scope frowned and shook her head in disapproval. "Still as closed minded as ever: sadly there's little I can do about that."

Roach glared at Toad. He was less than impressed with the younger mans outburst towards Scope. "Toad, I don't know where you get off talking like that to a lady, but you damn well better get an attitude adjustment before I give you one personally."

"Oi! The lot of you stow it!" Price snapped. "The second we get at each other's throats the harder this will be for us to fix! So sharpen up! Is that clear?"

The group fall quiet again, and the silence hung for a while as looks of guilt flooded Roach and Toad in waves. Price and Nikolai sighed and Ghost remained stoic. Scope meanwhile remained neutral and contemplative. Gertrud was the first to break the heavy silence, her voice sounded of guilt and numbness.

"I'm sorry... I'm affecting unit cohesion just by being here. I'm the cause of all this fighting."

Everyone was taken aback by Gertrud's Apology. It was sincere and heartfelt... and it was completely unnecessary. She had nothing to apologize for and yet she felt she was somehow at fault in all this. Ghost started to worry. He may have known Gertrud for only a week, but he was quick to pick up a person's personality and what made them tick. After hearing and seeing first hand who Gertrud was as a person and a soldier, he knew that this wasn't her. This wasn't the strong and stubborn Karlslander he had come to know. He knew something was wrong...

"This isn't your fault." he replies reassuringly.

"That's right." Scope replied in agreement. "The problem lies with us. Not many people are willing to believe in the existence of alternate realities or people claiming to be from them so readily. "

After some hesitation Toad tries to speak to Gertrud. "So... you're really a witch?" Gertrud nods slowly in response. The young operator inches his chair backwards while wearing a worried look. "You're not going to put a curse on me or anything, are you?"

Gertrud seemed more horrified then Toad. "No! No of course not! I'm not that type of witch!"

Ghost sighed audibly. "That's not what her magic is used for Toad. If you listened to anything Roach and I had told the Captains then you'd have heard that Gertrud's ability is in increasing her strength for long periods of time."

Price then speaks to Gertrud with curiosity. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to demonstrate you're alleged magic, would you?" he asks. "Or perhaps use that striker thing over their?"

Gertrud shakes her head as she cast her eyes to the floor. "No sir, I cannot."

Ghost gestures over to Gertrud. "Price, she's lost her ability to use her magic when she entered our world when she was sent here with Roach and Me." he explains. "She tried to use her striker the moment we arrived but she couldn't get airborne."

Scope now seemed skeptical looking after Ghost's explanation but said nothing. Price sighs. "That's a shame then. I wonder what could have caused that."

Gertrud drew a shaky breath. "I wish I knew. Back home most witches lose their abilities to use Striker Units at around the age of 20, when their magic power weakens to the point they cannot serve as witches in active duty, but I'm not that old yet." She scoffed bitterly. "I'm not much of a witch anymore am I... probably didn't meet your expectations by any means. My magic is gone..."

"Hey now luv, don't lose hope yet, we can figure this out I promise you." Ghost tries to give reassurance to the young witch. He could tell immediately that depression was starting to catch up to her, so he had to see to it that her moral was kept up. He then noticed that Price's face seemed to soften a bit. He wasn't sure if the old man was either feeling sorry for the young girl, or if he noticed her current emotional state. In either case he spoke to her in support and confidence.

"We will be there for you, young miss. You helped us in our time of need, so we will be there to support you in turn. You won't have to fight alone."

Gertrud looked the old Captain as she struggled to hold back tears. "Thank you sir..."

"Please miss, Price is fine." The old man looked to Roach looking very serious. "Roach, I remember you mentioning that both you and Ghost still managed to hold on to the DSM all this time?"

Roach nods and reaches into a large pouch on the back of his chest rig, producing the DSM. The devise had been through a lot of insane moments and it showed, a few scratches and a dent adorned the body of the device. He hands the DSM over to Price, the older man turning the DSM over in his grasp has he studies it. He now had an asset that could prove useful in carrying out their mission.

"There is bound to be a lot of useful Intel on the DSM that we can use to take down Makarov, so we better start sifting through it and see what we can find. Nikolai, you'll be with me. Everyone else will have some downtime but use your time wisely: Train up, check your gear, maintain your weapons, get yourself a meal and a drink and whatever else you think needs to be done. Dismissed."

With that, Price stood from his chair and left the room with Nikolai in tow. Once they left Scope also got up to leave. Upon getting to the door she speaks to Ghost and Roach.

"I'm going to hit the outdoor range for a while. If anyone needs me I'll be sharpening my skills a little." After she leaves the two men and Gertrud are left alone.

Gertrude gets up and approaches her strikers, the young witch wearing a clear, forlorn look on her face as she kept her gaze on the one thing that gave her power, meaning and purpose. It was her calling and her drive in life to be a witch. To protect others and save her homeland: And now it was gone. Without battles to distract her facts about where she was now were hitting her like a landslide. She was in an endless spiral of depression and sinking ever deeper.

Ghost and Roach sit quietly in the room as they both exchange glances. Ghost motions for Roach to follow him outside the room and he leads the younger man out of the room. Toad's eyes travel between the Lieutenant and the young witch for a moment, but then he stands. He moves from his chair over to a cot in the corner of the room and lies down; hoping for a chance at getting some much needed rest. Tilting his helmet forward he quickly drifts off into a light slumber. Just before he closes the door Ghost speaks to Gertrud.

"Barkhorn, Roach and I will be outside to talk for a bit but we will be right back alright? Will you be okay on your own for a moment until then?"

She doesn't even look up as she responds. "Sure... no problem."

At that Ghost closes the door and Roach follows him down the hall and into a room with a balcony overlooking the courtyard. They find a place on the concrete railing and both combat operators lean up against the cold rail to have a bit of a heart to heart with one another. Ghost takes a cigarette out from his webbing and produces his lighter, igniting the small Tobacco and Nicotine filled stick. After lifting up his balaclava a bit he takes a long drag. Its rare thing for him to light up cigarettes so soon, usually he limits himself to a cigarette once every three or four months if not longer but he figured that due to the events of the last mission that earned himself a treat.

"Rough mission, eh mate?" the older operator asks.

"Yeah, it was a pretty insane Op if I do say so. Bloody pain in the ass in my opinion..."

"Well our works never easy then, is it? Going through the meat grinder with your head in a vise while people are trying to turn you into a pink mist for whatever reason is enough to drive most people mad."

Roach eye's the Lieutenant's cigarette. "Mind if I get one of those?"

Ghost raised an eyebrow. "You don't smoke."

"Yeah, I don't. Can I have one anyway?"

Ghost slowly draws a cig from his package and holds it up. "Not a good habit to pick up mate. You should find something else to ease your nerves. Too many of these and your health will deteriorate and they are harder then hell to kick once you start. And I'm saying that from experience."

"I'll save it for later then, I want something to do after this whole thing is over, mark its end with something special."

Ghost at last hands Roach the cigarette. "Well, once you do light that thing up just don't get hooked okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I hear you." Roach stuffs the cigarette into a pocket in his webbing as he shoots Ghost a look. "Look Ghost, I know your building up to asking how I'm doing, alright. No need to do a run around or anything. I already told you that I'm fine and I am fine okay?"

"I just want to make sure of that. I want to make sure that if you have any problems that I can help work them out with you."

Roach frowns. "What are you: My mom or something?"

"I'm your Lieutenant Roach; I want to make sure my subordinates morale and emotional well being is alright. It's part of my job after all." A profound look floods he eyes as he takes another drag on his cigarette. "Besides, were friends, joined the 141 together after all. Can you blame me if I want to make sure one of my lads is alright?"

Roach sighs. "I know, it's just you've been asking that question a lot lately."

"Given the circumstances, don't you think I'm justified in doing so?"

Roach thinks on that for a moment and shrugs. "I guess that's a good point."

"Look mate, I know loosing Scarecrow, Ozone, Archer and the others is going to be difficult but they wouldn't want us to dwell on their deaths. So long as we keep our heads in the game and keep doing our job we will be able to honor their sacrifice. Once all this is over and only then can we mourn them. You can feel something for them now at least a little bit but be sure not to let it paralyze you. And out in the field mate just focus on your objectives, the mission and watching your team's backs."

Roach sighs as he looks upwards, the stars in the night sky are twinkling, seemingly at peace in the universe despite the battles that were no doubt raging across the world right now. "Yeah, I know. It's just... hard... you know? I guess...I dunno." He scoffs, rubbing his forehead as he thinks things over, slowly becoming aware of his state of mind. "If my head were a train I'd be a high-speed wreck right about now."

Ghost laughs. "Trust me mate you aren't a wreck. You just have some issues that need working out."

"Are you speaking from experience sir?"

"You know it mate."

Roach always knew that the Lieutenant has his own skeletons. He always made guesses as to what could have made Ghost the man he was but he never could exactly pin what the route cause would be. If he knew just what had shaped Ghost into the man he was he would have been rendered catatonic. All Roach could tell is that it likely had to have been something pretty brutal in the older man's life. Part of him wanted to know, but then another part of him wanted to let sleeping dogs lie. In the end curiosity won out.

"Well seeing as we are talking about each other's problems how about we talk about yours for a bit."

Ghost frowned, figuring the younger man wanted to know about some of his own personal baggage. "You know how it works Roach. Chain of command, if I have problems I tell the people above me about them. If officers have issues or problems, then we tell them to the senior officers above us. We gripe up, not down."

"What about as friends then? Doesn't have to be anything major, if you're going to go out of the way to keep an eye on me then the least I can do is return the favour."

"I thought you didn't like having me bugging you Roach. No pun intended" Ghost replied jokingly.

"Sure it's annoying, but I know you mean well by it. So come on sir, it takes two to talk you know."

Ghost falls silent, his mouth shifting a little. His thoughts ran deep about Gertrud and he was starting to worry about what he could do to help her. He was hesitant in sharing any of his problems but Roach was a good friend and one of his more loyal friends at that. Served in the SAS for a few years and joined the 141 together. FNG's in the Task Force that were training to become the best in the military community and Ghost was already a bit of a hard as nails badass in the British military. Roach idolized and looked up the Lieutenant, seeing him as one of the best examples of intelligent, tactically fluid and disciplined that he could find. After Simon took Gary under his wing the two of them had been through the thick and thin; the good the bad and ugly. He may not have felt like sharing every single part of his more personal of dark packages, Ghost eventually settled on sharing a more recent issue.

"Well I've got one problem..."

Roaches face lights up, his mouth growing into an excited, toothy grin. Today would be the first time he got to have some more personal banter for the Lieutenant, probably the first in years. "Brilliant! Let's hear it."

"Well simply put: I need to think of a way to help Barkhorn." He states simply.

Roach's smile evaporates as quickly as it appeared. "Oh yeah... she's probably going to need some help too huh? Let's see..." Roach thinks for a moment. "Maybe we can talk to her, kind of like we are with each other right now."

"I thought of that but I'm not sure anything we can say will give her any reassurance. Besides, it's hard to find much in commonality when she lost her magic. We aren't wizards last I checked. I've been trying to keep her moral up, but just when I think I managed to do so she gets back into a depressed funk again."

Roach is silent for a moment until a thought comes to him, his face turning hopeful. "Maybe she needs to talk to someone who has a different outlook and understanding then us."

"You have someone in mind mate?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking we have her talk to Scope for a while. Maybe she can provide Barkhorn with some insight."

"Scope huh?" Ghost mulls over this option with some scepticism. He hadn't really considered that option, but now that it was brought up he wasn't sure if having the young Karlaslander talk to the Task Force girl would work or not. "Search me. Having her talk to Scope...it's unorthodox to say the least."

Roach shrugs. "Maybe that's the point. I'm thinking it's because Scope has a unique mindset that she would be helpful in helping Barkhorn with some of her baggage."

Ghost thinks on this and decides that the option is worth pursuing. "It's worth a shot. Who knows, it might do Trudy some good." He digs into one of his pockets and pulls out the MAPPD. He looks it over for a while, pushing a few buttons to see if it can pick up any portals, but so far it hasn't. "If there were any portals back to Gertrud's world then this thing could have been helpful in sending her back. But so far I've got nothing out of it, so it's a Catch 22 all around." Grumbling, he returns the device to his pocket and butts out his cigarette. "Well, may as well help out on her emotional state first anyways, I'd rather not send her home when she is this vulnerable."

Roach sighs. "I never thought I'd see her so down like this. She was a tough as nails badass back in her world. How did she get reduced to this state?"

"I'm guessing a witches magic is everything to those girls. Their world relies on them to help safeguard against the Neuroi and provide the heavy hitting power against the enemy."

Roach's face turns rueful. "So they dump all that responsibility and pressure on the shoulders of little girls."

Ghost nods. "And once it's gone... they can no longer serve as combat witches... they can't use their strikers and everything comes crashing down all around them."

Roach looks up to the sky again, but his features twist into a look of frustration. "Doesn't seem right putting that much pressure on a kid like that. I know they need witches but everything about that just feels... wrong, man."

"Well here kids have no business being on battlefields... at least witches have magic to protect themselves..." Ghost sighs. "But Gertrud is a soldier, she may have been a child solider but now even in our world she has the choice of being one so as fellow warriors we should do everything in our power to help her. Agreed?"

Roach looks to Simon and smiles. "Yeah, agreed."

* * *

><p>"Hello? Air Chief Marshal Dowding?" Minna kept an outward look of stoic professionalism despite the fact she felt huge anxiety deep inside. She knew that she was going to be speaking to one of the most famous and influential men in the world. She was actually going to be speaking to the man who developed the idea to creating Joint Fighter Wings. First impressions would be everything. She intended to make that first impression count as she waited for Dowdings response over the phone.<p>

"Yes, hello? Wing Commander Minna Wilcke of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing, am I right? My duty Corporal has informed me that you have placed a call of urgency for something important?"

"Yes sir, I wish I placed this call to talk to you under better circumstances but I'm afraid I need some help in solving a rather severe problem."

"There appears to be no shortage of problems I'm afraid, what with those Neuroi out in Africa and Europe making a bleeding mess of our boys. We have been getting heavier fighting then normal as of late, and Reconnaissance has found that there has been a lot of activity in the enemies ranks from within their strongholds and hives. Frankly it's had everyone here quite on edge if not more so. So unless you have something even more severe then that Wing Commander then I'm afraid it may need to be addressed at another time."

Minna swallowed and took a deep, calm breath. She knew this couldn't wait but she had to word what she was about to say just right or the plan to help the men of Hunter-2-1 would surly fail. "Forgive me Air Chief Marshal, but I'm afraid it may very well qualify. I fear the 501st Joint Fighter Wing may be in danger of being dismantled."

There was a long moment of pause, but at last the Air Chief Marshal sighs, sounding as if this were an expected annoyance. "Again, eh? I'm barley surprised by this sort of thing anymore. Quite a few parties have tried to do exactly that and the 501st was the one of the first Fighter Wings to actually have been dismantled. Thankfully it didn't stick, but still..."

"I wish that was all sir; begging your pardon but have you heard of the recent events of the 501st as of this week last?" Minna inquired.

"I vaguely recall it from reading the mission reports I have been sent; an incident that stemmed from a Neuroi attack that brought men from another world into our world? Peculiar stuff if I do say so indeed. Likely something out of a work of fiction but then life is so much stranger than fiction isn't it? Didn't Headquarters send Ekkard Krupke from the Karlsland military to investigate?"

"I'm afraid that's the problem sir. Evidence has turned up that shows that Krupke is planning to dismantle Joint Fighter Wings, starting with the 501st. He also tried to threaten the five men from the other reality into compliance, but they resisted his show of force against him. Two of them managed to escape him but three of the men were re-captured. I'd like to stress that they were the ideal guests and even helpful up until Krupke's actions made them feel threatened."

Dowding was silent for a moment as he took this in. "So what you're telling me is that you want me to help both you and these three men that are still being held by Krupke." He took a deep breath as he continued; his voice took a low, stern tone. "I understand your position Wing Commander, but I have many other problems that are taking up priority and I can only do so many at one time. Besides, isn't this something you should bring to someone back at Head Quarters instead of coming directly to me?"

"I've tried that already sir, but I have reason to believe that someone is impeding my attempts to get help from someone at HQ. It's likely one of Krupke's contacts. I wouldn't bother you unless it was of the utmost urgency."

Minna was sounding as though she was pleading to the Air Chief Marshal at this stage. He was the only one who could possibly be of help, but without his involvement then the whole plan will fall apart and the men of Hunter-2-1 would be at Krupke's mercy, and worst still he would dismantle the 501st and the other Wings for good. She couldn't allow that to happen.

First Barron Dowding spoke again to Minna, he spoke slowly and deliberately. "You are asking a lot from me Wing Commander. A lot more then I can possibly stand to deliver. You do realize the position you're putting me in?"

"Yes sir, I realize how much of an inconvenience I'm being in requesting this from you."

"I've been taking a lot of flak from those lobbying to dismantle the Wings, yours isn't the only one being targeted you know. Not to mention gathering intelligence and laying plans to win this war is a test in patience, knowledge and endurance. You realize this as well, do you not?"

"I do, but if it means the survival of my unit then I must do everything in my power to ensure that it stays together. My girls are like family to one another...truthfully speaking sir...they are my life. I know that it is audacious to ask, but if you can help me and my girls in any way, if you can help us help these three men... I will be forever grateful to you sir."

There was silence over the line. Minna clutched the phone tightly in her grasp in hopeful anticipation. Her knuckle was already turning white as she awaited the Barons answer. She had hoped that he would see fit to emphasize with her and help resolve this bitter problem plaguing the 501st. Even despite her many long years in military service, it was the second time Minna had ever felt such levels of anxiety; the first time being when Mio, being insistent on returning to the battlefield, was wounded in combat with the Human-form Neuroi that made contact with Sergeant Miyafuji.

"Wing Commander, I empathize with your position, and if the rumours I've heard about this Krupke fellow are true to any degree then you have my sincerest sympathies. However, with situations cropping up with the enemy in addition to the pressure I've been facing as of late I personally cannot take measures to aide you." Minna's heart started to sink at this until Dowding continued. "However... I think I can turn this to the attention of someone who can do more for you then even I can... that much I can do for you maidens of the skies."

Minna felt renewed at hearing this. She was grateful that Hugh Dowding was willing enough to help her save the Men of Hunter-2-1 and her Fighter Wing. "I cannot thank you enough Air Chief Marshal, I am in your debt."

"Nonsense Wing Commander, I will do what I can for the fighter wings. You girls are a credit to the uniform, your nations and humanity as a whole no matter what anyone would say to the contrary. I may not be able to do much, but this I can do." After a pause the Brittainian Air Chief spoke in earnest to the Karlsland Wing Commander. "Stand Fast Commander Wilcke."

"Sir, I will."

"Very good then; good luck, and god speed."

"Goodbye sir... and thank you."

* * *

><p>Gertrud was silently walking through hallways and corridors, hoping to find the firing range. Earlier Ghost and Roach had approached her and recommended to that she talk to Scope for a while, suggesting that the Task Force woman could help somehow. She couldn't see how this person could: In her mind, Scope was too laidback and above all, weird. Not to mention Ghost and Roach didn't sound very convincing in their argument in getting the two women warriors to meet, the two men equally unsure in the suggestion as she was. But Ghost urged the young Karlslander, almost pleaded with her to at least try. She could remember the tone of his voice and the look in his eye. He sounded worried. So reluctantly she was going to appease him, even despite what her thoughts were, asking herself what good it would do. It wouldn't change her current situation.<p>

She continued walking the halls of the massive safe house, trying to find the range that Scope said she would be training at. Every turn and bend was met with relative silence save for quiet murmurs and hushed conversations of the personnel, the many Russian Loyalists that called this place sanctuary. A few times she asked for directions and received them but she kept getting turned around in the unfamiliar compound, and being a proud Karlslander she refused to ask for further help. She was starting to get increasingly frustrated until a large, thundering boom is heard, as if someone had fired a large calibre rifle. She focused on following that sound and after a moment followed the report outside. Once on the grounds she searched the perimeter and found something akin to a makeshift range, with a firing line with silhouette targets downrange and a guard tower overlooking this particular side of the compound.

Strangely it seemed like the firing range was empty and unused. This baffled her: she knew that she heard the sound of a rifle firing. She couldn't have imagined it. But then the evidence was clear that no one had used this range since early this morning. Before she is about to dismiss it as her imagination the rifle's report sounds again, sounding deafeningly close. She turns to the sound and finds the barrel of the weapon jutting out from the roof of the safe house, just upon the third story, a ladder led up to a ten-foot-by-ten-foot diameter crow's nest. She slowly approaches the ladder and climbs up. Upon reaching the top, she can see Scope lying prone with her weapon. She was intently focused on her target downrange, her gaze boring though the scope of her weapon. Gertrud blinked, unsure if she was looking at the same person as before. She seemed so different now, more disciplined, more professional. For some reason she seemed a bit like Hartmann in terms of personality. She stared at the women sniper of the 141 for a moment, captivated by her intensity.

"Hey. You can come in if you want. Make yourself at home."

Scope's voice startled Barkhorn. She didn't know that she was even noticed by the Sergeant. Her voice sounded of even monotony. As if she had no emotion or feeling, like the women from before and the women here now were two entirely different people. The young witch bowed her head as she clambered into the crow's nest.

"S-sorry if I'm disturbing you." she apologized.

"Not a problem at all, I figured you be up here sooner or later."

"So...what target are you shooting at?"

Scopes eyes dart to Gertrud, her face expressionless. "It's a long ways out. See that bit of mountain down over their?" She gestures with her head over to a mountain resting several miles away from the safe house. "Thiers five steel plates down range that serve as my targets. If I hit one, it's a kill. I aim to hit them all."

Yuna's gaze travels back towards the distant mountain side, up towards her target. She had already put a hole in two of the steel plate targets and shifted over to the third that was next in line. She took a few slow, controlled breaths and begun gauging the wind to shift just right. She lay waiting, patient. Sniping was an art form, the act of long distance engagement and destruction of targets akin to painting the Mona Lisa by hand upon a quarter. A steady hand and patience was everything. What's more a well trained sniper engages at just the right moment, waiting for the chance to strike. At ranges such as this, one careless bullet or miss pull of the trigger could quiet literally make or break you. Scope preferred the position she held in the 141. She wanted to see tangibility in her actions, wanted to know and affirm that whatever she did left any form of impact and the discipline required to make those key actions. She was a force multiplier upon the battlefield, a job that was crucial, especially for the many missions she ran while in the Task Force. After her calculations were made and her moment was right, she squeezed the trigger. With a thunderous boom, the .50cal BMG shell casing ejected from the chamber, the round already downrange. The rifles report rolled up the wooded mountain, the echo rolling back into the ears. Scope scoffed, seemingly satisfied.

"There we go...a solid hit..."

"That's pretty far away to be conducting range training. Shouldn't they be within the proximity to the safe-house?"

A sudden smile crosses her face as Scope's grasp slips away from her weapon. She turns to face Gertrud and sits cross-legged as she explains. "Well, the M82A1 is a powerful anti-material rifle; it's what it was designed for. I often fill the role of sniper and counter sniper in the Task Force and I often engage targets at extreme ranges, so this is my weapon of choice. If you want me to drop targets miles away then I'm your girl."

"I see. That reminds me of Sergeant Bishop back home, she was the Sniper of our unit. She was a bit of a green recruit, but she soon became a very reliable sniper."

"Sounds like she took to her position pretty well... we all start somewhere, don't we?"

Gertrud grins sheepishly. "I suppose it's true for all soldiers then." Her face suddenly turned stern. "Listen, Ghost and Roach thought you might be able to help me somehow. Personally I'm not giving my hopes up but if you can be of any help to me I'd be grateful."

"Well I'll certainly try and help however I can. So what would you like help with?"

Gertrud seemed about to speak, but she stops, appearing deep in thought. She suddenly turns agitated and turns to leave the Crows nest. "Forget it. Even if you wanted to you can't help me. I'm a witch without magic; no one in this world could ever understand how that feels."

"Maybe not, but I feel that you aren't the type who would give up this easily. You're so much stronger then this..." Scope spoke softly, her voice almost a whisper as she sat in a lotus position on the floor. Her voice, while quiet, carried a heavy weight to it.

Gertrud turned to Scope in surprise, which was soon replaced with suspicion. "How would you know? We've only just met. How can you tell who I truly am in so short a period of time?"

Scope pointed to the center of her forehead and tapped at the space between her eyes. "Those with their minds eye opened unlock their gifts and sense the gifts of others. And you Captain, have the greatest gifts of anyone I have ever met. You were a strong and gifted soldier back home, weren't you?"

Gertrud's eyes widened. Her preconceptions of Scope, already shaken before, have been completely shattered now. "I thought this world had no witches or magic."

Scope chuckled. "Strictly speaking, it doesn't... but that doesn't mean that our world doesn't have things that transcend mere flesh, wither other people are willing to acknowledge them or not." She motioned to the floor in front of her with a friendly, sincere smile. "Please, have a seat and let's hash this out for a bit." Gertrud was nervous now, unsure what to expect from this women and it showed. "You don't need to be so nervous you know, I don't bite or anything."

Slowly Gertrud sat cross-legged facing the Task Force Sergeant, she had the feeling that there was something to this woman that she had difficulty in reading. "I'm sorry I don't..." She struggled to try and find her words as she spoke to Scope. "You're not a witch?"

"Nope: No brooms, no pointed hats, no black cats or any of that stuff. And I defiantly don't have flying propellers on my legs before you even ask."

Gertrud was confused. "But earlier you said you could sense things... back home only magic users can detect magic and sometimes even the Energy that Neuroi give-off. How can you sense anything magical in me?"

Scope began to explain. "Our world has a universal energy that permeates everyone and everything. It goes by different names or is at least called different names by different people: Mana, Chi, life force. Whatever people call it; it's something that all living things have and influences non-living things as well. It flows all around us and within us. I can sort of detect stuff like that inherently, and in you it feels incredibly strong."

Gertrud seemed to struggle with the women's explanations. It sounded all Romangan to her. Trying to understand just what Scope was trying to explain to her about this world was difficult, save for the fact that apparently instead of magic there is some other energy in this world. But if there was some form of energy then why hasn't it allowed her to fly or use her magical powers?

"Okay, so this world has energy flowing though everyone and everything right? Then how come I still can't use my striker to fly?"

"Good question. Can you tell me a little about magic and the striker units?"

Gertrud frowned. "I thought you said you can sense things. Shouldn't you already know about that already?"

Scope's face fell flat. "Hey, I said I can sense energy and I can even read people's emotions, but I'm not all knowing. I'm not one of the higher powers that be you know."

"Higherpowers? What are-" Gertrud groaned in frustration and started chastising herself, having caught herself starting to go off topic. "No, never mind that... you want to know about Magic?" Scope nods and the young witch starts to explain in great detail. "Magic is a natural force of energy that is subject to the laws of physics. It is a force of nature that is abundant in our world but where only witches can manipulate it. Witches have familiars; animal spirits that bind themselves to a witch and increases their innate magical power as well as grant unique abilities to individual witches. For the most part they are seen as the ears and tails that witches like me have when we are in use of our magic. And like I said before, when a Witch reaches the age of 20 their magical ability weakens."

"What about the Strikers then, what can you tell me about them?"

"They serve as a means of increasing a witch's natural magical and physical ability and provide extremely durable magic shields for protection in combat. Air strikers provide a witch with flight and Land Strikers allow witches to serve as magical based ground support, a sort of elite troops if you will. They require direct skin contact to function and are considered a key element in humanities survival in the war against the Neuroi."

Scope pondered this information very carefully, her brow furrowed as she processed what the young which had just explained to her. Finally she asks Gertrud a question. "Are there any rituals, regimens or any sort of meditation of any sort that you go through in order to use your magic?"

"We witches train our body's rigorously with intense physical training and drill with our weapons so that we can be familiar with using them in battle. A good witch also ensures that her striker is well maintained so that it can work efficiently and effectively to increase a witches magical power and serve her well in battle. Our weapons and Strikers are essential and discipline is the utmost importance."

Scope drew a frown, noticing an inherent problem that Gertrud and her fellow witches may be facing that is causing the Karlslander a problem in this world, possibly causing her and the witches to lose their strength in using their magical abilities at 20 years of age. "I think I see the problem: you're being neglectful."

Gertrud became shocked, and then her feelings turned to anger. She felt she was being insulted. "Are you saying I'm lazy?! I'll have you know that I spend every morning doing calisthenics and PT. I've drilled myself in Karlslander military protocol and I ensure that the standard of both me and my comrades are at its highest! I'm fighting a war to free my homeland from the enemy and to protect humanity from destruction. I'M A SOLIDER: I DON'T TAKE MY DUTIES LIGHTLY!"

"You train your body; familiarize yourself with your weapons and strikers and you take your job seriously, that much is obvious. But you don't see it, do you? All you've done is train and hone one half of yourself; what about your spirit and your magic?!"

Gertrud seemed dumbfounded by this. "W-what? One half? My spirit?"

"Yes, from what you've just told me you and you're fellow witches haven't worked on something important to cultivate your gifts. I guess you guys don't meditate or anything like that am I right?" Scopes face softened and she seemed to drift into a state of calmness and wise clarity. "What you must understand Captain, is that a weapon is but a tool for the solider, like the hammer is a tool for the carpenter or the Guitar for the musician. They are an extension of the user, a focus for his soul. A solders natural talent and skill is channeled through his weapon and a truly wise, knowledgeable and enlightened warrior knows this as a solemn, profound truth. Those whose minds are not yet open to this knowledge often never to come to realize their full potential, and their true strength therefore is dampened and hindered. You think only powerful weapons and strikers and a regimented body are all you'll need to engage the enemy and you treat your magic in a similar, shallow fashion. This is foolish thinking. You're magic is a part of yourself, and your tools of the trade are but your extension of self."

Gertrud's eyes widened and fixated on Scope as the Task Force Operator continued to speak, the young witch in awe of this woman before her. "I feel that you're world is abundant in magic, it flows easily and thus you and your fellow witches can manipulate it with ease, but because you haven't opened your mind's eye, you weaken in your prime. And here in our world... you're little more than a normal girl because of that fact. The spiritual energy in our world is a more subtle power, its flows like a quiet stream while in your world magic is a wide and mighty river, with a current that roars like rapids. But while both hold great power, in our world it is the person who must become strong, skilled and disciplined in spirit to unlock the powers that lay dormant in themselves and to manipulate the energy around them. To do so, one must meditate, to calm one's mind, attune their body and soul so that both are in sync. Doing so is a journey to find oneself, and a path to enlightenment. Succeed at this, and a great many gifts will emerge, and you will find a world of opportunity opening up to you that few believe, understand or care to for that matter."

Gertrud was breaking out in a sweat now; she leaned forward and had a pleading look in her eyes. "What are you saying?" she croaked.

"What I'm saying, in essence, is if you want to wield your magic again then you must open your mind, center and calm yourself, open your mind's eye and find balance within. You may condition you're body and mind, but you forget to cultivate the spirit and attune it to the body, heart and mind. If you take time to do this, Captain Barkhorn... then you will once again be the witch you once were... and so much more."

"How do you know this, Sergeant Kotoro?"

Yuna smiled in a peculiar manner, she had a look indicative of a woman holding great unfathomable wisdom. "Just a feeling I have... and I learn to trust those feelings like I trust the other members of the Task Force."

The young Karlslander fell silent, her eyes cast to the floor. Her mouth was dry and knots started to tie themselves up in her stomach. She felt lost, but if Ghost trusted this woman as someone who could help her, then she had to try and learn from her. "So... what exactly should I do? I've done a lot of Karlalandic physical and combat training, should I try something more intense and specialized?"

Scope's face fell flat. She promptly smacked her face with her hand and groaned. "Wow, completely missed what I just said, didn't you." She then chuckled light heartedly and wagged her figure in a reprimanding gesture. "Like I said, physical training won't help you. What you need to do is to meditate."

Gertrud fell silent. She was used to copious amounts of physical training so the concept of meditating was baffling and counter intuitive to her. If she wasn't training her body or drilling she was fighting the enemy and flying with her strikers. She questioned if this meditation that Scope was talking about would really serve to help her or not.

"I'm not sure how to meditate to be honest..." Gertrud admitted reluctantly.

Yuna smiled. "Don't worry, I'll help provide guidance if you need me to. The best I can suggest for starters is to work on taking a position that you're comfortable with and work on calming your mind. Here, we can do it together, okay?"

Yuna rests her hands on her knees while in her lotus position, resting her thumb upon her middle and ring fingers and closes her eyes. Gertrud hesitantly mirrored the Sergeant and began to follow the older woman's lead.

"Whatever happens just be accepting and allow it, okay?"

Gertrud nodded. "I understand."

* * *

><p>Krupke was waiting on the phone to hear from his contact back at HQ. The Duty Corporal that was on line had him on hold for quite some time. He had little patience for delays. He wished he knew the name of the Duty Corporal so he could report his incompetence to the man's superiors. At last a voice is heard in greeting over the line.<p>

"Greetings, Herr General."

"Stabsoffiziere Brauer, it's good to hear from you. I was meaning to talk with you if you are not too busy."

"Nothing that is of terrible importance at the moment sir, how can I be of assistance?"

"I need a status report in regards to the proposal set forth to the Fuso Navy, has there been any word yet on their decision to proceed?"

"Uh...it's a bit of a mixed bag really, Herr General, there have been several of Fuso's joint chiefs who have taken at least some interest in our proposal, but the majority are either opposed or still undecided. Thankfully we have gotten the interest of a Fuso Scientist named Taichi Kaima, he's somewhat of a genius, if a little eccentric. "

"It's not ideal, but at least we have a possible foot in the door as it were, I'll still need an appraisal beginning next month to see if we have any progress in getting support between this week and our next consolidation meeting."

"There's something more sir, if I may."

"Something more? Elaborate."

After some pause Brauer spoke in a hushed whisper. "I just got off the line with one of my men; apparently someone has been making inquiries and calls yesterday at 17:23 hours to Allied Headquarters."

Krupke became curious. "Do you know who it was or what the nature of the call was about?"

"All I could get was that it was someone from the 501st Joint Fighter Wing, I wasn't able to get much else besides that."

Krupke scoffed. "Most likely Wing Commader Wilcke trying to inquire into my mission objectives. Figured she'd try to poke her nose in where it doesn't belong, but it's nothing that can't be fixed, whatever she tries to impede our goals with will do little to stop them." He sounded thoughtful for a moment as he considered something. "She ordered to have my prisoners prepped for Medical and Psychiatric evaluations this evening; I wonder if she just set that up to spite me. Ah well, even if that were the case it doesn't matter. It only shows how desperate she is, let that witch sweat. Her and her Wings days are numbered."

"Shall I look into this and find some further information sir, dig up more if there is something else to find?"

"Very well, but keep it under wraps if you can help it. We don't want this cat out of the bag earlier then our target time. Is that Clear?"

"Understood sir, I'll be sure nobody knows what I'm up to."

"Good man. You're dismissed."

* * *

><p>Price was searching through the DSM for Intel, sifting through information that was retrieved from the safe house while on a computer. He kept searching for anything that could be of use that could provide an edge against Makarov. He searched through several different files, including some partial Intel that referenced the Massacre at Zakhaev International Airport, amongst other files and documents that were of little note while Nikolai watched over Price's shoulder. After reading a document that spoke of one of Makarov's underlings infiltrating the United States to meet with a contact, he happened upon another file. The file in question, while seemingly ordinary and benign, had a disconcerting title;"Копье Операция Красный: Operation Red Spear." He opened this ominous sounding file and studied its contents. He observed one of the documents that held a set of general standing orders, which were written in Russian. Nikolai leaned forward to get a better look at the file. After the two of them finished reading the document the Russian informant grimaced.<p>

"Looks like Makarov is putting next phase of his plan in motion, Captain Price."

"Seems that way... only question is what is he planning to do?"

"This I do not know." Nikolai re-reads the document and notices something in a paragraph half way through the document; he points it out to the venerable Captain. "It looks like they are preparing for Key Player for next phase of operations. Codename of man is: щука."

"щука?" Price turns to Nikolai, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that Russian for Pike?"

"Da, it is." Nikolai gestures over to another file on the screen. "Perhaps this will give us answers?"

Price opens the file, finding it to be a digital dossier of the man who was code named "Pike". He reads the file carefully. "Stanislav Koltsov, Former Russian Motorized Rifle Troop, court-martialled and dismissed from service for theft of military weapons and supplies, a dozen accounts of conduct unbecoming, striking an officer, wanton destruction and loss of life in the field to civilians... a rotten piece of work this one...just what are they going to have a man like this do I wonder? He has a rap sheet a mile long."

Nikolai looked disgusted as he read the dossier. "Captain, this man was criminal long before he was conscripted. Exactly the kind of man the Ultranationalists would want in their ranks."

"Sounds to me like the 141 may need to reel in a Pike then, find out what this fish knows. Let's see... ah here we go. Looks like Codename Pike is being stationed somewhere in Germany in addition to five squads of men with him for whatever Makarov's got planned." Price smirked. "Tomorrow we will send a team to extract some information from this guy, figure out what's going on maybe take him down if we have to."

Nikolai scoffed. "Think Ghost should lead team for mission?" he asked inquisitively.

The Captain nods knowingly. "That's right, the Lieutenant's bread and butter is gathering Intel and getting in a blokes head. He can slip in and out and cause a lot of damage to the enemy. We'll get him and the others briefed tomorrow."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

**August 16****th****-16:12:58**

**Simon "Ghost" Riley**

**Task Force 141**

**Leipzig Germany **

The drive over to the motel was uneventful if only marginally comfortable, the taxi rolling across traffic lanes as the rain soon eased into a light drizzle. The flight was an air charter that Nikolai had booked for Ghost and his team consisting of Roach, Toad, Yuna, and Gertrud, the Russian man pulling strings for the 141 to carry out their mission. The flight arrived at Leipzig/Halle International and the team discretely disembarked the aircraft for the taxi to pick up. Some intelligence leads had possibly confirmed Code name Pike was last seen heading to somewhere in Saxony. The Team had to dress into civilian clothing during the trip, not wanting to give attention to themselves.

Each member carried a large backpack and two duffle bags, carrying everything they needed for the mission, though Roach also carried a second backpack containing a laptop and assorted surveillance gear. Having finally arrived at a three story motel just outside of town, the squad exited the beige cab; a Mercedes-Benz Viano that smelled like it was just recently washed and upholstered, the noxious smell of cleaning solution was so heavy that Gertrud had difficulty in breathing, so one of the windows was rolled down a little for most of the trip. They retrieved their bags while Toad gave the cabbie his fare and then they entered the motel. Once at the front desk Ghost tries to order a room in German, though he was still very rusty in speaking it. Gertrud spoke for him in Karlslander, asking the clerk for a few rooms for them, which the man obliged. He inquired what the plans of the group were, and Ghost simply stated that it was a vacation of sorts, which seemed to satisfy the man. After finding their rooms, locking the doors and drawing the curtains they started to unpack their things. From their back packs they produced their BDU's, equipment and their weapons which had been concealed while in transit to their destination.

As Ghost unpacked his gear the events of earlier that morning replayed in his mind when he was briefed by Price.

* * *

><p>"<em>Alright Ghost, the mission's going to be a simple one, there's a man that we're going after named Stanislav Koltsov, goes by code name <em>_щука__, or "Pike". He's vital in some capacity to Makarov's Inner Circle but we aren't sure __what his role in all this is so we are going to need you to take a team with you to Germany, the Intel we've got places him somewhere there."_

"_So basically go in, find this guy, figure out what Makarov's sending him to do and take him out, am I right?"_

_Price shrugged. "Pretty much, though you will need to get in low profile, so while you're in route you'll be dressed as civilians."_

"_Sound's easy enough."_

"_Well getting in and out will be easy, thanks to the connections that Nikolai has, but finding Koltsov will be the tricky part. You're going to need every bit of your wits about you if you plan on finding him."_

"_Not a problem sir, I'll poke around and see what I can dig up, and I'll be sure to keep it dark while doing so."_

"_Good man. I'd go with you but I'm going to be staying here to work over our Intel with Nikolai and his men." _

_Ghost knew that was just a cover. Old man Price was worried about Soap, but the Lieutenant understood. Even if Captain MacTavish was tougher then a brick house the last mission did a number on the younger Captain. When Roach was on the verge of death, Ghost had to admit that he had some level of concern for the Sergeant. The bonds of friendship forged in combat were stronger then steel cable. So Ghost knew what the old man was feeling, to some extent at least. But then thoughts of the young Karlslander started to wander through the Lieutenants mind. He felt a level of camaraderie with her in her world, and with the young girl struggling with depression and Post Traumatic Stress he had been wondering what to do to help her. An idea soon comes to him._

"_Price, with your permission, I'd like to take Roach, Toad, Scope and Gertrud if I may."_

"_Barkhorn? Are you sure that's wise Ghost? You know she's developing some heavy set emotional issues, right?"_

"_Exactly the reason I want to bring her along, she needs something to boost her spirits so why not take her with us to Germany? From what I heard in her world Kalrsland is basically 1940's Germany, maybe if she was exposed to something familiar to her homeland it might cheer her up a little. Besides, she's already proven herself a capable solider, once things get into full swing she can pull her own weight while on the Op."_

_Price considered this for a moment until he comes to a decision. "Aright, I'll allow it but make damn sure you stay appraised of her mental health. She will be your responsibility Lieutenant." _

"_Understood, I'll let the team know to get ready sir."_

"_Good. I'll leave you to it then. You'll be set to go in an hour thirty. Dismissed."_

* * *

><p>After getting his gear unpacked from his bags and placed in the closet, he exits the room and locks the door behind him. Pulling up the hoodie of the hooded sweatshirt he wore, which had the stylized print of a skeleton on black and adjusting his sunglasses, he approaches Gertrud's room and knocks. Presently the door opens and Gertrud answers. Noticing Ghost wearing his particular choice in outer wear, a skeleton hoodie and multicam pants was an eerie and yet compelling choice. She had come to realize that Lieutenant Riley had some sort attraction to skeletons and bones, it was a little unsettling but she had been curious as to what drew him to them...<p>

"Lieutenant, is there something I can help you with?"

"Have you managed to get your things unpacked Barkhorn?" he asked.

"Yes, I just finished."

Ghost rubbed some foreign matter from the corner of his eyes and cleared his throat. "I was meaning to ask how you thought the trip up to here was."

Before coming to Germany the young Captain was unsure and pessimistic about the trip with the 141, but she did find that modern Germany was an amazing sight to behold. She said it was like looking into a window of the future, and the other soldiers of the 141 noticed that her state of mind was improving vastly. Ghost was glad to see that she was finally having positive emotional change.

Gertrud smiled reluctantly. "I enjoyed it. The city seems so large, and clean... it's amazing."

"Would you like to see more if it?"

Gertrud quickly turned serious. "But don't we have a mission to carry out?"

Ghost grinned. "Exactly, if I plan to go out and find this Pike fellow then I'll need a partner with me so I figure why not you. Besides, that way you can have a reason to see more of Germany. Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak."

"What about the others, aren't they coming?"

"No, Roach, Scope and Toad are on standby, they will have their cell phones and radios on them in case we need to call for backup. Besides, a group of five people in hoodies will look a little suspicious. We want to keep this on the down low after all"

Gertrud frowned. "About that... couldn't I have worn something a little more... professional?" Gertrud stepped out from behind the door allowing Ghost to see her attire; a black and grey tie dye style hoodie and expensive, designer navy blue jeans.

"You kidden luv? Those cloths are worth a little over a hundred sixty five American, its high quality, designer casual wear. Though I will say, it's a good look for you."

Gertrud's face turned red in embarrassment. "Nonsense! You really shouldn't say things that you don't mean Lieutenant."

"What made you think I didn't?" Ghost remarked coyly, which in turn made Gertrud's face turn a darker shade of red. Ghost's smile soon faded and became all business as he quickly shifted gears. "Thiers a car rental just across the street where we can grab a ride, be sure to bring you're headset radio, sidearm and silencer. Is that clear?"

Gertrud soon switched into her solider mentality once she picked up on Ghost's shift in attitude and got focused. "Roger, I'll go get them."

"Alright, I'll wait out here for you until you're ready."

After getting the gear she needed she locked the door and the pair passed Roaches room, with the Sergeant standing in the door frame and giving Ghost a subdued grin. Ghost smirked in response as he passed and lead Gertrud to the car rentals. Once they rounded the corner Roach noticed Scope and Toad approaching.

Scope was grinning from ear to ear. "Man, I'm starved, how about you guys?"

Roach nodded. "Yeah, I'm feeling a bit hungry. I'm up for a meal. What about you Toad."

"Naw, I'm not that hungry, you two can go ahead."

Roach raised an eyebrow. "So what are you gonna do then?"

"Maybe check my gear and review the Intel on this guy that we're supposed to find. You two can go and enjoy yourselves."

Scope shrugged. "If you say so..." She turned to Roach and wrapped an arm around his neck. "Hey Roach, there was a Japanese restraint a block from here, you wanna go grab something to eat for a bit? I've got a mean craving for some rice."

"Well, I'm hungry enough, sure, why not."

* * *

><p><strong>June 1 1945 – 17:23: 01<strong>

**Sergeant David "Sean" Foley**

**Hunter-2-1 75****th**** Ranger Regiment**

**Pescara Romagna**

Foley was deep in thought. Even while in their current situation he was thinking of a plan to get his subordinates and himself out of the clutches of Krupke and his men and get home. Even though he knew that the girls of the 501st had their own plan to help, Foley still worked on a few contingencies just in case. The job of a Ranger was to always complete his mission, even if he were the last survivor in his unit. Defeat and surrender were not part of a Ranger's vocabulary, he always put forth the effort to find ways to gain victory in the field and succeed at the task in hand. The mission for the moment may be different to what his mission was back home, but Foley would still ensure that this new objective of escape was accomplished so he could move on to the next objective. Fortunately, Foley had an ace in the hand as it were...

The three men of Hunter-2-1 had already been subjected to a plethora of physical and medical testes as well as a psychiatric evaluation by the base personnel. Most of the base personnel had given wary stairs to the trio as they were escorted by guard detail of three witches and two of Krupke's men. Now things seemed to be getting grim rather quickly, they were being escorted back to the Military Police Office to be locked back up in the stockade. Ramirez and Dunn were dreading getting stuck back behind bars and Foley had to agree that it wasn't a very appealing prospect. He had hoped that Wing Commander Minna's plan would have helped them out by now, but it seemed like they would need to rely on their own ingenuity from here on out. The Sergeant just needed the right opportunity to put Plan B into motion.

Dunn, having spent most of the time anxiously hoping for a miracle to happen, whispers to his Sergeant. "Sarge, they are going to lock us up again man, what should we do?!"

"Patience, we'll get out of this."

"I have been patient! I can't fucking wait anymore, we got to think of a way out of here."

One of the men from Krupke's command shoves Dunn in the back with his weapon. "Quiet! Keep moving." He snapped.

"Don't make me come back their asshole!" Dunn was starting to get irritable and it was starting to show.

Ramirez just kept quiet, as was to be expected. Even despite the fact he started to engage in conversations more frequently as of late, the Private was often the strong silent type. He preferred to listen more to what was being said, and in turn think about what was being said not only to himself directly but to those around him. It was something his mom taught him growing up, a bit of etiquette to pick up on, but surprisingly it became a crucial skill that he had cultivated that served him well as a Ranger. While walking beside the Sergeant, he noticed the older man fidgeting with something for a brief moment, as if adjusting something under his Tactical vest. From the looks of it, he wasn't sure what the Sarge was doing, but he wasn't about to call any attention to his Senior NCO.

Foley hoped for an Opportunity to put his plan into action, and it finally came when the base alarm started blaring. The young witches, Hijikata and the two men of Krupke's guard detail are quick to realize what that means.

"An alarm! The Neuroi are attacking!" Hijikata exclaimed.

One of Krupke's men turns to the young witches and barks an order. "We need to get these three to their cell quickly and get to our combat stations!"

Perrine turned to the two Karlsland soldiers and tried to put forth an idea that just came to her. "What if we had the trio help us defend the base? They are well trained and-"

"Are you stupid?!" One of Krupke's men cuts her off angrily. "They are prisoners! The only place they are going is behind bars! General Krupke was right about you damn witches; you have no god damned business in the military."

Perrine gapped; she couldn't believe how hateful the Karlslander sounded towards her. The other witches winced at the Karlsland soldiers words as the Gallien girl tried to find her voice. "H-how dare you!"

"The sooner you witches are gone the better!" the other solider put in; he turns to address the Rangers. "Come on you three, get your cans mov-"

A sudden clattering is heard coming from the ground, the eyes of everyone looking down and noticing a small, grenade-like devise bounce and spin right in the middle of the group, having just been cast to the wooden floor by Sergeant Foley. Erica looked at the devise as it slowly came to rest in the middle of the group as the three Rangers's closed their eyes and covered their ears quickly.

Erica blinked. "Is that..."

The older Karlsland solider screamed. "GRENADE!"

Everyone bleated, but instead of the expected explosion and shrapnel a large bang sounded accompanied by a sudden flash, blinding and deafening everyone. The members of the guard detail staggered from the detonation of the small device, groaning and stumbling from the effects of taking the full brunt of a flash-bang at close range. Once everyone was rendered deaf and blind, Foley grabbed the nearest Karlsland solider and threw a right hook squarely on his jaw, the blow rattling the man's brain in his skull and knocking him out. Dunn tackled the other Karlslander to the ground and threw a couple punches to the man's head and Ramirez knocked Hijikata out with a well placed close line to his neck, the Petty Officer's feet flying out from under him and hitting the floor painfully, followed with a quick stomp to the head by the Privates heavy combat boot. Once they were sure that the men were knocked out, the Ranger's promptly ran down the hall, leaving the young witches behind, still blinded and deafened from the flashbang.

Ramirez looked back to the girls while running, looking apologetic. "Sorry girls, we gotta split!"

Clotilda, Perrine and Jenna could barely hear the private apologizing to them as the three men of Hunter-2-1 rounded a corner, leaving them seeing spots and hearing an annoying ring in their ears. Erica meanwhile had bumped her way into a wall, unable to see anything.

"W-what happened!? What in god's name was that?!" Perrine demanded, trying to blink away her spotty vision.

"A non-lethal grenade devise, I never imagined they would have things like that!" Clotilda9's vision was starting to improve as she replied to the Gallian girl, and she noticed that the men were knocked out while they were momentarily distracted.

"Looks like those three guys got tired of waiting for us to get them out of this whole mess. Now we gotta chase them." Jenna gritted her teeth and chased after the fleeing Rangers, with Marwick and Perrine shakily tailing after her. The young witches of the guard detail had a cover to maintain, and unfortunately they now had to pursue the men they were trying to help. Erica however was left behind, rubbing her eyes and blinking out spotty vision, but chuckling in amusement.

Foley led his men through hallways as fast as his feet would carry him; knowing full well that the young witches would be right on top of them, and he wasn't planning on hanging around long enough to face the magical power of the 501st, even if he knew they would be attacking him and his men reluctantly. The Sergeant kept that flashbang hidden in a pocket in his Battle Dress Tunic, under his combat vest, just in case things didn't exactly pan out. While he had no problem decking one of the men in the guard detail, he didn't like the thought of raising his hands to kids. Once he dropped that flashbang he readied himself to go for the nearest man and drop him, but he chose to ignore the girls, not wanting to hurt them, instead hoping that the non-lethal explosive would bide the three American men enough time to get some distance. It wasn't the right choice tactically speaking, but morally it was right. And to Sergeant David Foley that was enough, and to hell with anyone else who said otherwise.

As he led his men while on point he noticed a base solider briskly exiting a room with a Garand rifle in hand. The man turns in time to see Foley's fist smack squarely into his face. Once the man is knocked out cold Foley retrieves his rifle and side arm, handing them to his subordinates along with the required ammunition. Ramirez looks over the Garand he was just handed looking astonished.

"You're kidding me! You expect me to use this piece of fucking crap?!"

Dunn shoots the Private a stern look. "Hey don't knock it dawg, that's a piece of American history you're holding. Besides, at least you have a rifle... " He waves the 1911 Colt .45 in his hand, showing that he was rolling with just a sidearm.

"But this thing is an Antique!"

Foley frowns. "Ramirez, quit you're bitchen. It may be an antique in our world, but in this world it's like a new Mark 14 fresh off the factory floor. The guy I just clocked took good care of that weapon so it should perform fine enough until we get our own weapons back. Now let's get moving, Hooah?"

The three men are on the move again down the hallway, the base air raid still blaring loudly as they ran to find an escape route. Unfortunately, they soon came across a patrol of soldiers and non-combat personnel running into the intersection of the halls, forcing the three rangers to stop at the doorway to a room on their right. The base personnel quickly spotted them and the soldiers took aim at them.

"It's those damn Rangers! They're trying to escape!" The squad leader barked. "Apprehend them!"

Foley in turn barked an order to his men. "Take aim but hold for my signal boys!" With his men complying Foley warned the soldiers of the witches' base. "Better stand down, we may not want to but if you try and take us prisoner we will take measures to defend ourselves. Ranger's aren't quick to give up."

Before the rival squad leader could reply Jenna, Marwick and Perrine round a corner with Marwick and Pirrine leveling their weapons at the Rangers, the three men are effectively surrounded now.

"You're surrounded, surrender now!" Captain Clotilda Marwick ordered sternly.

Dunn groaned in frustration. "We haven't time for this man! Any minute now aliens are goanna come a knocking while were in the middle of this stupid bullshit!"

Jenna then took a step forward and leveled her cannon, causing every party present to pal in horror, a few of the base POG's started begging her not to fire her heavy ordinance weapon within the confines of the hall, but the Ranger's saw the look in her eye as she spoke her warning. "We can do it the easy way or the hard way, you're choice!"

"Shit!" Foley's eyes darted to the open door to the room and barked an order tersely. "MOVE!" Instinctively on the Sergeant's command the men hustled into the room.

"STOP!" Jenna fired a round from her cannon aimed at the rangers that missed, The soldiers and base non-combatants hit the floor as the shell traveled down the length of the hallway an impacted a wall at the other end of the base.

With Dunn and Ramirez freaking out a bit at the near miss, the three Ranger's closed, locked and then barricaded the door with a dresser and a bed as Foley desperately tried to find a way out. Upon seeing the window, he opens it and takes a look outside, seeing that the ledge of the second story seemed wide enough to edge across with a nearby downspout about five feet away. The sound of thumping is heard from the other side of the door.

"Looks like a way for us out of here. Come on you two, out on the ledge and down the spout."

The moment Ramirez got to the window he became weak kneed, a nervous whine escaping his throat. "That's a good way to get a broken neck."

"So who wants to go first?" Dunn jokes weakly.

"Alright ladies, come on, were on the clock here! Follow my lead." Foley steps out the window with the younger Rangers nervously following suit behind him. While the Sergeant edges along the ledge, Dunn is next to step out, as Ramirez steps onto the ledge, he hears a loud thump coming from the other side of the door.

"Don't worry, that furniture ought to slow em down for a while." Dunn say's reassuringly to the Private.

"Y-yeah, you're probably right."

Another heavy bang against the door shifts the Dresser and bed a little, the door becoming somewhat ajar. Ramirez gets a bad feeling fast and hurriedly gets onto the ledge. "Oh shit! Give me some space will ya?"

"Hold you're horses dude, I'm going as fast as I-"

Just as Ramirez moves away from the window while shoving Dunn along a large bang sounds followed by the bed, dresser and door crashing through the window and falling to the base grounds below. All three Ranger's stair in horrified shock at the damage, promptly the trio let loose a string of curses and continues to the spout of the gutter. Perrine gets to the destroyed window and starts shouting at them to come back but they ignore her. One by one the three rangers make their way down the spout, with Foley and Dunn climbing down with little trouble, save perhaps for a little give from the downspout during Dunn's rappel down. Once the Privates turn comes he eyes the drainage pipe of the gutter nervously.

"Yeah, this is not safe." he states flatly.

Dunn motions to the private from the ground below. "It's all good bro; it'll be a snap, just get down here so we can book it!"

Quietly muttering to himself Ramirez cautiously forces his way down the spout, not even halfway down the spout starts to creak before giving entirely. Ramirez holds on for dear life as the top of the spout breaks away from the building with him still on it. He curses as he descends to earth before finally coming rest fifteen feet from the ground. The end he held onto abruptly breaks and he falls into a pile of bushes that cushion his fall. Foley and Dunn run over to assess his condition.

Foley extends his hand to the younger Ranger. "Ramirez, are you alright?!"

The young ranger takes Foley's hand and is helped up as he responds. "For the record, I don't want to do that again."

Dunn gestures impatiently to the motor pool. "Well, you're not dead, that's something. I'm all for getting out of here, how about we catch a ride dawg?"

Foley shakes his head. "Not yet we still need our gear back. They must have them in an armory somewhere, if I we were them it's were I'd put em. I'd rather avoid Krupke using our weapons for some sort of ungodly experiments."

The sounds of guards shouting from the windows above force the three men to continue their evasion of base security. After running across the airfield to get some distance from their pursuers and taking cover behind some large aircraft currently parked upon the apron, Ramirez poses an inquiry to the Sergeant of Hunter-2-1.

"So then where do you think our gears being held at?"

They quickly ponder this when they realize that the hanger containing the witches strikers is connected to a portion of the base that seemed heavily fortified, with a few windows having wrought iron bars on them. Their faces light up in realization.

"Striker Hanger." They answer in unison. With siege stances taken and a quick "Hooah" they advance to the Witches Hanger and the heavily fortified building adjoining it.

* * *

><p>Minna and Mio are in a dead run towards the hangers to sortie with Yoshika, Lynne, Shirley and Lucchini following close behind. Minna didn't like the fact that Neuroi attacks were increasing in frequency as of late. For the most part Neuroi attacks used to run like clockwork but now they were becoming more erratic in time-frame, more aggressive. Something was prompting the enemy to take more aggressive action, though she wasn't sure what was compelling them to do so. Minna had a radio slung over her shoulder, hoping that the call Dowding had promised would come.<p>

As the six witches were in their run for their striker units they hear Perrine's voice blurt out over the radio.

"Wing Commander, we have a problem mamm!"

"Go ahead Perrine, what's the situation?"

"Foley, Ramirez and Dunn have managed to get loose from the guard detail and are trying to escape on their own!"

Minna blinks in surprise. "Did they really...Perrine, explain to me what happened."

"The Sergeant had some sort of non-lethal explosive hidden on his person, and used it to cause enough distraction to knock out all the men in the guard detail and both he and his men ran off before we could catch up to them. We gave chase once we were able to and managed to catch up. We managed to surround the three of those men with a few of the soldiers on base but..."

"But what Perrine?" Mio asked.

Perrine's voice soon turned angry. "But that idiot tank witch fired her cannon at them while inside the base! They slipped into a room, barricaded the door and escaped out through a window. All because of that trigger happy buffon!"

Jenna's voice is heard in the background, sounding indignant. "I said I was sorry, okay! Besides nobody got hurt, that's the important thing."

"What sort of thick headed fool would fire a cannon in the hallway of a building like that?! Are you trying to get people killed!"

"Oh shut up you stuck up Gallian!"

As the two witches were arguing and Marwick struggled to get them both calmed down, Lucchini was dancing about the hall happily; excited to hear that the Rangers were giving the guard detail the slip.

"Hooray! The Rangers are escaping! Shows that jerk Krupke whose boss!"

Shirley chuckled in amusement. "Liberions were always known for being creative; I guess the Liberion from their reality is no different in that regard."

Mio knew that she should have been more worried than she was, but she couldn't help but be impressed by the determination of the Rangers. They were eluding the base personnel, and they were well motivated to get home even despite being out numbered and out gunned. Minna, to one extent or another, had similar feelings about it, though she hoped that the call she was waiting for would come.

"I have to admit, those three really are determined to get home. They managed to pull an ingenious escape at just the right time, I have to respect that." Mio had spoke with a grin that she was trying to suppress.

Minna nodded. "They are well trained, it's not a surprise that they were able to escape capture and evade our men. I just hope that this is the worst of what can happen."

"So what now mamm?" Lynne asked.

"Looks like we will have to be the ones to get to them first, better us then the rest of the base personnel."

Yoshika whimpered nervously. "I hope the three of them don't get hurt."

Before Minna could order the girls to follow her lead and find the Rangers, Clotilda gave the witches a grim warning over the comm. "Wing Commander, Major, please be advised, the men of Hunter-2-1 have armed themselves with the weapons of one of our men. They knocked him out and took his rifle and sidearm."

The girls all gasped. The whole game has changed now, the Rangers were now armed. For all intents and proposes they are now a threat to all personnel on base. It now seemed likely that the base combat personnel may now be inclined to use lethal force to eliminate the threat that the Rangers now present… or vice versa. Now Minna knew the other witches HAD to get the Ranger's first before the bloodshed starts. She responded to Marwick.

"Understood, get to the Ranger's before anybody else can get the chance to, the rest of us will intercept the Neuroi. Please avoid using lethal force if you can help it." She started to pray that the call she was hoping for would come soon. The last thing Wing Commander Wilck wanted was unneeded bloodshed.

* * *

><p>Ghost drove the van that they had picked up down city streets, trying to find places that their target would frequent, with Gertrud sitting on the passenger side, taking in the sights of Germany. After a while, Ghost's eyes dart to the sidewalk and he brings the black coated Volkswagen Routan over to the curb and steps out. Gertrud exits the van, following the Lieutenant to what seemed like a museum of sorts. She turns to Ghost questioningly.<p>

"So what are we doing here?"

"I thought I saw someone, looked like one of Pike's men. He went inside the Museum over there. Come on, let's go tail him for a while and get a closer look. Who knows, he might lead us to our mission objective." Ghost reached for his cell phone and dialled Toad. "Oi Toad."

"Yeah Lt, what's up?"

"Gertrud and I may have a possible lead here, we're going to follow a man that might be one of Pike's boys and see where he's going. Get in contact with Yuna and Roach and have them stand by."

"Roger, I'll try and sift through our Intel in the meantime; I'm currently linked up with an imaging satellite right now on the laptop to give us a bird's eye view. Just call us if you need anything sir."

"Good man."

After Ghost ends the call, silently the pair follows their mark at a distance into the museum. As they follow the man Gertrud's eyes fall upon the many displays and artefacts that adorned the museum, ranging from old Textiles from Peru to antique pottery from Egypt. But as they trailed their target Gertrud's held her breath when she came across the WWII Exhibit. When she stepped into this particular part of the museum she was struck with the uncanny sense of Déjà vu. Karlslander uniforms and weapons, medals and battles that seemed similar and yet different at the exact same time. It was almost like a little bit of her world was still here, but with a strong layer of dust upon it and entombed behind glass, or some details adjusted in some way or another. She couldn't describe how it felt, seeing her life in this world already a fading memory.

Ghost noticed the troubled look on her face and gently took her hand. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah... this may take some getting used to..." She turns to Ghost with a pleading look in her eye. "Do you think that... do you suppose that my homeland will be as busy and full of life as Germany once again? Or... will it be nothing more than old relics collecting dust in a museum."

Ghost fell silent for a moment, contemplating how to respond to such a serious question. But after failing to find some comforting words of reassurance he just sighs. "I guess the answer lies on the shoulders of your people, Captain."

As they passed a display of an MG42, Gertrud's eyes fell upon a photograph exhibit of a few German Fighter Aces, when the names of one of these aces caught her eye she stoped dead in her tracks to read it more carefully: Lieutenant-General Gerhard "Gerd" Barkhorn. She froze as she stared wide eyed at this particular ace that shared her last name. Ghost turned to her, and then to what she was staring at. After seeing the photo of the German ace he read a plaque adjacent to the photo, though every few sentences his eyes dart back to the man they were tailing, who was fortunately currently looking over a display with German motor vehicles.

"Ghost...I think that's me..."

Ghost blinked and turned to Gertrud, unsure if he heard that right. "Come again?"

"He has the masculine version of my name. And he was born in Königsberg, the same city I was born in...and those eyes... It's like looking at myself in a different role...a different world..."

"You're sure about that?"

"It's too much of a parallel to be a coincidence. There are similarities between our worlds so..." her voice trailed off, she wasn't sure how to feel about this particular discovery.

Ghost reads the plaque next to Gerhard's photograph, finding something that made him a little squeemish. "Well if this bloke is an alternate version of you then this is going to sound pretty awkward."

"What do you mean?"

"You're sisters name is Chris, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Apparently he was married to a woman named Christl."

"Christl...Chris-" Barkhorns face turns red, grabbing her nose to stop a sudden nosebleed. Thoughts of her sister came quickly, and the idea that something this ironic could happen was far too much to handle. "Gott, you mean-" It was one thing for her to have affection towards her sister, but quite another to actually think about marrying her. Though at one time when she was younger she had considered it once, but that was a secret she would take to her grave.

"Apparently..." Ghost looks back over to their mark, noticing him start to leave the exhibit. "He's moving again, let's go."

"About time, if I stick around here any longer I think my heads going to explode."

They shadow the man out of the museum and along the sidewalk for a couple blocks. At one point Ghost can tell that the man is getting more cautious, as if he can sense them following him, after a while of walking the man moves to a building that was lit up in lights with loud music blaring out the front door. The Task Force operator frowned. Loud music, he was thankful at least that it wasn't rock music, loud rock music brought up a lot of bad memories linked to his father...

Well, Loud Rock Music and thinking about the past...

* * *

><p><em>A young Simon Riley was standing in a sea of dancing bodies, loud, obnoxious rock music that sounded more like an endless car crash assaulted the ears of the young boy as he struggled to block it out, his hands covering his ear's. The heavy based noise that barley passed for music was courtesy of a band that went by the name of Bone Lickers, a band that Simon's father had started, but went their own ways, leaving Simon's dad out off the loop. <em>

_Simon was left alone for a few minutes now, his father leaving for some reason or another. Simon couldn't stand that music, he tried to find his way out to any measure of silence in this building, but everywhere he went was drunken cheering, hollers and the bands instruments blaring and banging loudly. Simon had already passed a young, drunken women losing her lunch on the dance floor, in his desperate bid for silence. Shuffling through the crowed mass of people, he makes his way to the edge of the sea that made up the crowd, spotting his father's bony form, hanging beside a woman in her thirties who appeared less then attractive, with a flaming sword tattoo on her arm, navel ring and some cheap costume jewelry. After watching his father flirting with the woman for a moment they both leave the dance floor and into a corridor. Filled with an sudden bout of curiosity, Simon slowly follows them at a distance, his young mind at the time not knowing what was transpiring, nor what was about to transpire in the next five minutes. _

_Going into the corridor and down the hall, the thudding music and the voices of the crowd grow steadily distant. After some time he approaches the men's bathroom, the door slightly ajar. Hesitating for a second he slowly opens the door and peeks inside. He hears his father's voice._

"_Come on ya bloody slag... ya wanted this didn't ya? Y'wanted Bone's shit, ya did."_

_Simon can see a stall; his father's pant legs and shoes visible as well as that of the woman, her legs sprawled at either end of the stall. A minute passes and Simon slowly enters, cautiously entering, not making a sound as he drew close. Then what happens next makes him freeze. A syringe drops to the floor and his father curses. The needle bounces across linoleum and finally rolls two feet to a stop from Simon's shoes. The tip is coated in blood._

"_Shit. Shit. Y'Bloody..." Simon's father sounded aggravated. This in itself wasn't new. Simons dad was often mad about something, wither it was about the government, life dealing him a bad hand, his wife's over protectiveness of their children. It was expected. But it was what accompanied it that was different: a sickening sound could be heard from the stall. Something that the young Simon couldn't describe, but felt frightened by. Like something hitting metal... once... twice... the third time was the loudest, and was followed by the wet gushing sound of blood. Simon's young mind was overwhelmed, his eyes becoming misty and tearful as a pool of blood started to creep out from the stall. Fearfully his voice finally came out in a cracking stutter._

"_D-dad?"_

_Simon's father opens the door to the stall enough to stick his head through, a surprised look on his face like that of a deer caught in the headlights. _

"_Simon? Jesus fucking Christ, boy. What the fuck are you doing here?"_

_He cracks the door a little wider and steps out. His knuckle is coated in a thick layer of blood from under his leather jacket. Simon can see the woman slumped on the toilet seat also covered in blood. A heavy pressure pressed down on Simon's body, something he couldn't explain. Something he didn't like._

"_Is that lady... okay?"_

_"Lady? What..." Simons dad seems confused by his son's question, but then a look of realization hits him. "Oh, Y'mean the Slag? Ah shit, son. She's dead."_

_Once his father is out of the stall he can see that the woman's head is heavily bruised and her neck cut open. Simon takes a step back in horror, a sniffle and a whimper escaping his throat, the heavy feeling growing. Ol'Bones manages a calm tone and bends down to his son. _

"_Aww, Jesus, it's nothing. She's jus' some dumb whore, a drug addict. She was hell bent on a bad end." He gestures over to the dead women; a faint smirk on the dead woman's bloodied lip. Simon's father grinned in amusement. "Hey, hey! Look, she even died with a smile. HA! She did, didn't she? See that?"_

_Simon's father started laughing as Simon's young mind tried to make sense of the events that had unfolded and the actions of his father. But then a scared, ten year old boy isn't going to find much logic or any answer at something like this. There was just confusion, and fear. The young boy was paralyzed in fear, so such of it that it was almost maddening. A nervous whine escapes him. _

_Simon's father notices his son's nervous whine and puts his thumb on the boys chin, coaxing the young boy to look him in the eye. "Laugh boy." Ol Bone's cackled then urged his son again. "Laugh. LAUGH!" His cackling continued._

_Nervously the young Simon Riley makes a half hearted chuckle, confused in his father's request. But... the whole weight of the scenario started to lift of his shoulders a little... was it the laughing? Was it making him feel better? _

_His father smiled and continued laughing. "That's it." _

_Simon wasn't sure why but the weight on his shoulders was lifting away, his fear melting away. Half hearted chuckles grew into giggles, then that grew into quiet laughing. It wasn't long until father and son were roaring in laughter for what seemed an eternity. Even though the feeling of confused fear had gone... something still felt wrong about it to young Simon. He was experiencing a contradiction in emotions... and this contradiction started to slowly gnaw its way through him..._

_A few weeks later Simon kept his father at arm's length if not further, hiding behind his mother when Ol' Bone's was close by. He wanted nothing to do with his old man. He just wanted to forget that night, lock it deep away in his mind forever. But the damage was done... even if it would take the young Simon Riley years to realize this inescapable fact..._

* * *

><p>Simon knew that true evil existed in the world... he knew that many would claim to know just what true evil was but to Simon it was his father that out did them all. There was darkness in his father...and that darkness scarped across Simon's heart, mind and soul... and as hard as he tried, Simon could never be rid of it A few times he wondered if he too was also one of the monsters that prowled the darkness and trespassed upon the souls of others. Ghost blinked away the unwanted memoires, now wasn't the time to get distracted.<p>

Gertrud turned to Ghost, she seemed unsure about the building and the thudding music emanating from it. "What is this place that he went into? What's that noise all about?"

"A dance club..." Ghost pulls out his phone and sends Toad a text message about the current development. "Looks like he ducked in here for some reason, what say we follow?"

"Do you think he suspects we're following him?"

"Not sure, but we can find out." He takes Gertrud's hand and grins. "Come on, I'm getting one of my gut feelings again."

Ghost leads Gertrud through the doors, with the Task Force Lieutenant paying the cover charge. Gertrud found the large room was dim with the occasional flashing lights to illuminate the room if only for a brief instant. It was filled to capacity with people at both the bar and the floor. This was another new sight for the young witch to take in, a lot more stimuli compared to the quiet order of the museum. The dance club was bright, loud and lively.

Ghost gazed around the dance club; spotting the target heading over to a table where two other men were drinking, greeting him happily. He took a seat as they handed him a beer and began talking.

Ghost scoffed. "Looks like a few of his friends having a get together, probably for some R&R. Once they are done here, they'll probably return to base, once they do that we can follow them and see if that Pike bastard is there. In the mean time we have time to kill, time for us to blend in."

"How do you propose we blend in?"

Ghost shrugged. "You want to dance?"

"Dance?! How can you think of-"

"Oi, don't make a scene!" Ghost hissed.

Gertrud caught herself and whispered her disapproval. "I don't need to tell you that we're on a mission: A solider always keep's vigilance and discipline."

"True, but a wise, intelligent officer must be able to adapt to any situation that arises on the battlefield... surely you were trained for that right?"

Gertrud hesitated. She was trained for it but she took too heavily to protocol and regs as a Karlsland solider. She was far too focused on discipline in these things in the past and was quick to overlook other key aspects. And the worst part was that she knew this. It was hard trying to change that part of herself; she was a smart young woman, able to put effort into adapting to the ever fluid conditions of combat, but she preferred to use her bruit strength doing so. It may have been a fault in part of her familiar and its abilities. Or perhaps it was all on her shoulders.

"Correct." came a reluctant reply.

Ghost gave Trudy a reassuring look. "Don't worry; I plan on keeping an eye on him and his pals there, they won't leave my sight." Ghost marvelled at the irony. _Heh, and those blokes back then said stuff like that during that mission to take Roba down and I was all business. Ah well, that was then, this is now I guess. _"Shall we, Captain?" the Lieutenant gestured over to the dance floor while extending a hand for her to take.

Gertrud was quiet for a moment, until at last a sigh escapes her, taking the Liuetenants hand. "I guess I'll follow you're lead... so how do we dance to this music anyways? Waltz or Foxtrot?"

Ghost smirked as Basshunter's "All I ever wanted" started to play, the Lieutenant guiding the young witch to the dance floor. "Follow the music and let your body move to it." So with his attention on both his partner and their target off enjoying drinks, Ghost became lost in the music with the young soldier of Karlsland.

As the pair danced among the sights, sounds and euphoria of the dance floor, the Lieutenant found himself in state of bliss that he couldn't explain. Something filled Simon to the very core of his being; something that felt better then Sergeant Miyafuji's healing magic. But whatever it was, it gave the world a rare sight, something that the young Karlslander noticed as she danced with her partner.

The Lieutenant of Task Force 141 was grinning; it was a grin of contentment and genuine happiness.

* * *

><p><strong>Somewhere over Romangna, South of the Witches base...<strong>

A wing of Neuroi were steadily approaching their target, the majority of them medium bombers and light fighter types, plus two heavy bombers to deal the heavy, final blows to the humans. It was a standard Neuroi raiding squadron, somewhat standard for missions that consisted of targeting enemy bases and camps.

But today was different: there was an addition to the Neruoi Raid Squadron.

Five Neuroi Scout Fighter units followed from behind about three hundred meters above the main force. They kept to a tight formation for a while now, having been sent along with the group of Neuroi from another allied hive. These Neuroi were folded in with the wing for a special purpose... a special mission...

One of the Neuroi Leading the wing from bellow screeched out to the wing leader of the Scout Fighter Neuroi. The Scout Fighter Leader squealed in response, and then chattered to its fellow Scout Fighters. The Scout Fighter wing then quickly broke formation and flew into the cover of the clouds, hidden from view.

From below were three Neuoi units that were of a newly formed class of ground type unit. They were shaped like human made "wheels" with legs that were currently folded against their bodies. They were a bit on the bulky side but were incredibly fast and somewhat manuverabule. They were the only ground units for this raid, and aside from the Scout fighter wing, these Neuroi were key for the mission.

The Neuroi force continued onward to fulfill its objective. For the survival of their hives, their people... they would face humanity in the fires of combat. And this battle would provide them with their trump card. The Neuroi have come to know the all too familiar need to sacrifice for the good of their hives and the survival of their race. These Neuroi only hoped that it wouldn't be a sacrifice made in vain.

* * *

><p><strong>Somewhere over Romanga, East of the Witches base...<strong>

The small protoform flew with all its strength, its mission from its superior was a simple but crucial one. The small entity knew that the likely hood of survival in this solo mission was low but the fate of the Neuroi Race lay upon it alone. This world was becoming more difficult for the members of the misguided faction of Neuroi, the Collective, to maintain a foot hold. So the Collective had begun taking drastic steps, they needed a strategic foot hold to amass their numbers. The resources of this reality were being wrought from their clutches by the Humans that they so bitterly resented and cursed. This Neuroi and its more enlightened comrades wished to coexist with humanity, for they realized that aggression shall only begat aggression. To continue such a path would surly doom the Neuroi race to extinction.

The protoform increased speed. No doubt the Collective was going to initiate their plan. It cannot be allowed to succeed, the wrath of the people of this reality was enough a challenge, should the peoples of another reality be as challenging if not more, then it could mean the destruction of all of the Neuroi Race.

* * *

><p>Ursula and the young Karlslander from Krupke's guard detail had just retrieved the Ranger's weapons from the armory. Ursula was feeling highly reluctant in studying the Ranger's weapons under these circumstances. It didn't feel right to forcibly take the Ranger's weapons, nor to study and experiment on them. She was a woman of magically applied science, she held close to her heart a strong moral compass, to always seek to do good in her work and to never do anything to besmirch the profession she upheld. The weapons that belonged to the Ranger's were kept on a cart, which she was wheeling into the striker hanger so she can study the weapons. There was a work bench on the far corner of the hanger that would serve as a good enough place to conduct this little study. As she wheeled the cart into the hanger she could see Minna, Mio and the other witches preparing to sortie. Minna and Mio looked to the Karlslander scientist with looks of warning and then roared out of the hanger with the other witches following their lead.<p>

After the girls sortie to intercept the Neruoi presence enroute to the base, Erica approached the work bench and began her study of the weapons while under the watchful eyes of the young Karlsland Solider. The young man seemed intrigued by the strange weapons, his eyes traveled over them in wonder, and as Ursula ejected the magazine of one of the pistols he took long looks at the weapon with interest. Ursula felt like she was violating someone's property when she handled the weapons, even despite her own curiosity. She found they were made of some sort of metal polymers, the pistol rounds were Parabellum 9mm cartage, which was of Kalslander origin. She took Dunn's SCAR-H with Thermal sight and ejected the Magazine, surprised to find an unfamiliar rifle round resting in the magazine. She takes one of the rifle cartages from the magazine and inspects it carefully. In size and shape it shared similarities with the .300 Savage Rifle cartage; it possibly had been manufactured from the same company that manufactured the .300 Savage rounds and other variants used by Brittanian and Liberion, or at least a parallel version of said company in the other reality. She placed the bullet back on the work bench and took time to study the weapon itself.

She placed her hand on the weapon and began focusing some of her magic into it. Her magical ability was unique in that it allowed her to study the condition and inner workings of any form of machinery, and even allow magic to serve as a means of preserving and maintaining its parts to a small degree, and to extend its operation; including weapons. Her magic flowed and coiled around the weapon, allowing her to sense the intricacies of the tool of war before her. She found that the weapon itself was constructed with a Fiber-Reinforced Plastic material that was years beyond anything they could machine currently, and resting within were metal workings and parts. She found that the weapon sight was a technological marvel. It contained intricate imaging sensors that could detect body heat. She wondered if there was some way to adapt this technology to visually detect Neuroi energy signatures. Only witches with the magical power of Magan, or "Magic Eye" like Mio Sakamoto could detect the core of a Neuroi. Ursula began to imagine the possibilities of all witches having access to that ability without needing to have that magic power naturally…

Before she could move on to another weapon, the sound of footsteps approaching caught her attention. She saw two more of Krupke's men enter the hanger, both of whom appeared somewhat bruised and battered. The younger Karlslander Soldat turned to his fellows with a look of confusion.

"What the hell happened to you two?"

One of the other soldats, a man named Emil was sporting a black eye. He responded dryly. "It's those damned bastard Ranger's! We were escorting them back to their cell when they took advantage of the alarm and escaped us!"

The other man, named Heinz, addressed the younger man next, sounding furious. "Damned Liberian dogs of another world knocked my teeth out getting away. We're going to track those rats down, let's get going Cord."

Cord, the youngest of Krupke's guard detail was puzzled. This was a serious matter, but he was given an order directly to the Generalveterinär to oversee the inspection of the weapons that Ursula was studying. He found himself getting confused by these conflicting orders. "But I was told to stay with the Flying officer here during her study of their weapons."

"That's not important now; those three trouble makers are armed and trying to escape the base! We have to make sure that doesn't happen!"

Cord shrugged. "Even if that's the case how do we expect to find them now? They could be anywhere."

Heinz seemed about ready to bark insults at the younger man but Emil spoke before he could get a chance, a thought crossing his mind. "Other than finding means of escape... they may try to take back the weapons we managed to procure from them... if I were in their shoes it's what I'd do."

Ursula visibly became nervous at this line of thought, hoping that the Ranger's weren't planning to do just that. "You're sure they wouldn't cut their losses?"

Emil scoffed. "It's likely. They didn't want the Generalveterinär to have possession of their arms, so it it could very well be the case. Perhaps if we wait-"

The sound of a Garand discharging rings out, cutting Emil off mid sentence, soon followed up with three bullets catching him in the legs and hip.

As his comrade crumpled to the floor in agony Heinz gazed at him dumb founded. "Was zum Teufel?" he exclaimed. Another two rounds to both shoulders knock Heinz on his back, making him scream in pain.

"Mien Gott!" Cord fumbled for his weapon but drops it, his hands shaking too much to get a firm grip. Ursula was similarly surprised, if not more so from the sudden sound of gun fire. Cord reaches for his weapon but a trio of voices boom out from the hanger entrance.

"HOLD IT!"

"DON'T MOVE! DO NOT MOVE!"

"IF YOU REACH FOR THAT WEAPON WE WILL KILL YOU!"

The men of Hunter-2-1 charge into the hanger, Dunn and Ramirez have their pinched weapons in hand and Foley giving the final warning to the young Karlslander.

Cord raises his hands in surrender, fearing for his life. "Please! Do not shoot! Mien Gott please don't shoot!"

Ramirez approaches Cord and kicks him forcefully in the shin. "On the ground ya punk!" Cord quickly gets on his knees, his eyes now staring down the barrel of a Liberion Garand. Dunn meanwhile covers the two wounded Karlslanders with the Colt .45 he picked up earlier.

One of the wounded Karlslanders tries to crawl to his dropped MP40 but Dunn mounts him and points the pistol at his head. "You move and you're a fucking stain bro! Ya feel me?!"

Ursula fearfully puts her hands up as well, but she is met with a smile from Sergeant Foley. "Hey, hey, relax, it's alright mamm; we just wanted to make sure these three don't give us any trouble."

Dunn scoffed as he kept his pistol on the man he had pinned with his foot. "If we wanted them dead, we would only need to put three rounds in them: two in the chest and one in the head."

Ursula breathes a sigh of relief. "So you were planning on coming here to get you're weapons."

"Yes mamm, can't let Krupke use our weapons against you and the witches or use them for whatever half-baked mad science experiment he has planned, that's just not acceptable."

Ursula turns apologetic. "I'm sorry, Krupke wanted me to study you're weapons. I know it wasn't right but I had little choice..." she hesitated before admitting something to the Sergeant. "Truthfully I was also as curious as he was about you're weapons... I wanted... to know more about them...I wanted to see if..." her voice trails off in shame.

Foley's mouth shifted, seemingly unsure what to think about being told this little bit of information. It may be one thing to have been forced to conduct inspections of their weapons but quite another when her own curiosity was driving her. But at last he nods. "Alright, I get it. You have nothing to apologize for."

Ursula picks up the tan rifle with the under slug munitions attachment and holds it towards the Sergeant. "I believe this is you're weapon."

"Thank you mamm; much appreciated." He turns to his men, grinning broadly. "Well boys what are you waiting for, may as well secure you're weapons then."

"Roger on that Sarg." Dunn pockets the colt .45 and retrieves his rifle and sidearm from the work bench with Ramirez doing the same while Foley trained his rifle on the Karlslanders. After which his men then use a set of Zap straps to cuff the two wounded men. Dunn is about to cuff Cord when Foley holds him off.

Looking baffled, Dunn cocks an eyebrow at his Sergeant. "Sarge?"

"Hold a second Corporal; I want to talk with this boy here." He picks the young man up off his knees and looks him dead in the eye. Cord's eyes are wide in terror.

"W-what will you do with me?" he stutters fearfully.

"Listen; if we wanted to kill you we would have done it already. I know you were just following orders like a good soldier, but you better learn to be careful which orders you follow. You Karlslanders want to Liberate you're homeland, I get that. My boys and I know that feeling all too well... but what you're General is about to do is a damned betrayal of your countries uniform..."

"W-what, betrayal?! Th-thats ridiculous!"

"The hell it is! Krupke's planning on screwing over the witches. I'm not sure how you guys do things here but back where we're from, no honorable soldier lets one of his own get hung out to dry!"

Ramirez turns to Cord and glares angrily at him, remembering his own sister at home, recalling how protective he and his brothers were of her growing up, even after she joined the Marines shortly after James enlisted in the Rangers. "Hell, you're sisters a witch man! She's not just a fellow soldier: she's blood for Christ sake! What the hell kind of deadbeat brother lets bullshit like that happen without a fight!? I sure as hell wouldn't stand for it if it were my sister!" He then curses and mutters something in Spanish.

"I hate to admit it but those kids are the only things keeping your ass in this fight." Dunn admits reluctantly. "Pride comes before a fall and all that bullshit."

Cord was speechless. He knew they were right but Krupke was a powerful and influential man. What could a lowly soldat such as him do to stop him? He wanted to do something to help his sister and her fellow witches from being betrayed in such a cruel way, but two things held him back. Fear of the power that Krupke wielded... and the fear he had for his sister's safety. Little Lea was a small, meek and shy girl. She spoke quietly and she was easily frightened. But for such a small girls, she had a big heart. She always wanted to help people. He started to think that perhaps if Krupke's plans came to be then perhaps his sister would be safe and sound at home, away from the frontlines. But now... this line of thinking now seemed... dishonorable.

His thoughtfulness was apparent; Foley could read clearly on his face. "Got you thinking then huh? That's a start at least." He motions over to Dunn to cuff the young man up, once cuffed Foley sits him back down on the hanger floor.

Emil spat agerly at the Rangers. "You think you can get away with this?! The others will find you and you'll wish you were stuck back in your cell."

Snapping out of his thoughtful trance, Cord elbows Emil in the ribs. "Shut up! We've had this comming for a while now so just save you're god damned breath." He turned to Foley and nodded. "For what it's worth Sergeant, I'd like to thank you... for opening my eyes."

The sound of laser fire that sounded worryingly close caught everyone's attention. It sounded like the battle was going to get dangerously close. Britannian Spitfires, Fuso Zeros, Karlsland Messerschmitts and Liberion Mustangs were taxiing out from the airfield apron and hangers and unto the runway to sortie alongside the witches. The ranger's knew that if they were going to escape Krupke's clutches, then now was the time to go, though a part of them feared for the safety of the young witches and the base personnel.

Foley then turns to Ursula. "So now we just got to figure out how we get home." he states at last.

"I have a solution for that." She reaches into her pocket and produces the second prototype MAPPED, and hands it to Foley.

Dunn makes a toothy grin. "Nice! We just got ourselves a ticket home!"

"And not a moment too soon, we better get this thing working." Foley states dryly. "And Ursula, let the girls and everyone else on base know that we're sorry if we caused any problems for them and we appreciate their hospitality."

"I'll be sure to relay it to the others." She promised. "Here, I'll show you how to operate that." She shows Foley the dials and settings that the MAPPED prototype was capable of and explained how to operate it properly. While in mid explanation, the device starts to beep a few times. Erica presses a button that brings up a holographic display of some kind. Foley notices that the MAPPED's holographic screen was showing the directional arrows similar to a compass... one of them was glowing blue and pointing to the middle of the parade grounds. Soon followed were the sound and the flash of blue light coming from that exact location...

Dunn's eyes snap outside the hanger. "Holy fuck, is that what I think it is!?"

"It's one of those magic, transporting, portal thingamajigs!" Ramirez states in amazement. "Why the hell is it this close to the base?!"

Foley shakes his head. "Dunno. How about you mamm, any theory's?"

Ursula frowns. "The amount of magical energy that flows through our world must be becoming more and more unstable; it must be creating unpredictable hotspots that tear through space and time. It's the only thing I can think of to explain it."

"Well if nothing else it will be a short run to get to that thing and back home. Come on boys, our ride is here!"

* * *

><p>The girls were fighting fiercely to keep the Neruoi at bay. Minna, Mio, Shirley, Lucchini, Lynne and Yoshika were each in their own personal dogfights with the enemy, each one taking on unit after unit, but the Neuroi were determined to hold fast. Minna's "Three Dimensional Space Understanding Ability", also known as DSUA Magic, was keeping track of a large wing of Neuroi bombers and interceptors while at the same time showing where each of her girls were while in the battle space. She quickly noticed that Mio was in danger the moment she killed yet another Neuroi, an enemy had gotten right on her six o'clock.<p>

"Minna, I managed to down another Neruoi. They aren't showing any signs of letting up!"

"Major, you have an enemy on your tail, take evasive manoeuvres!"

"Huh, I do? Ah, wait, I see it! I'm evading now, I'll need some cover mamm."

"Understood, I'm moving to intercept the enemy on your tail. Standby." Minna sighed as she moved to aid her 2IC. Mio was every bit as skilled a warrior of the Fuso Empire you could find, but she was often a little thick at times, and often was prone to getting tunnel vision while in the heat of battle. She was focused... perhaps too focused...

Minna thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Shirley's groan over the comm. "Aw man, these guys are really meaning business today. Their hitting us fast and hard AND in large numbers. Man, I wish Trudy was here..."

Spotting Mio and the enemy currently giving chase behind her, Minna grimaced as she began her intercept of Mio's pursuer. She shared Shirley's sympathies. Without their Ace flying with them the 501st were heavily under powered for high density attacks like this. Trudy was the only one who could handle long drawn out skirmishes like this, she often took a lot of the heat off the other witches and provided the extra hitting firepower and had the stamina to keep the pressure on the enemy for longer periods of time. Without her the girls were underperforming as a unit, they were starting to feel tired much quicker without a high endurance heavy hitter to run interference, draw enemy fire and suppress the more troublesome opponents. Worst of all, a member of their family was MIA, cast forth to a world unknown.

Minna levelled her MG42 and tried to get a bead on the enemy. Mio was jinking from left to right as hard as she could to avoid the pursuing Neuroi's laser fire. Her shield was so weak that she may as well not have had one at all. As she was dodging the Neuroi attacks were growing more and more accurate. Rolling onto her back in mid flight, Mio had to deflect laser fire that came a little too close for comfort with her sword. Once she was sure of her shot Minna fired a long burst. The Neuroi was quickly shredded by her machinegun fire and destroyed.

"Kill confirmed. Your all clear Major."

"Much appreciated mamm."

Quite suddenly, Yoshika's voice squeaked over the radio channel in surprise. "Mamm look! It's that Rune again! It's in the middle of the base!"

"What?!" Minna turned to the direction of the base and did in fact see the magical ruin that Miyafuji had reported. In fact, it was very similar to the one that brought the Rangers and men of the 141 to their world. She saw it starting to glow brightly at a steady rate until it started tobecome as blinding as the sun. But Wing Commander Wilcke noticed something within the enemies ranks: Once the Magic rune began to steadily glow brighter, the Bomber Neuroi began to converge on the base; the smaller interceptor types began to swarm the 501st.

Minna desperately makes an emergency broadcast. "WITCHES OF THE 78TH TAME WITCHES BE ADVISED, THE BASE IS IN DANGER OF ENEMY ATTACK! PERPARE YOURSELFS FOR BATTLE AND SORTIE EMIDIATELY!"

Lucchini then spoke up over the comm. channel, sounding suppressed. "Hey, wait a minute! Where the heck did those come from?!"

"What's wrong Ensign?"

Shirley replied for the younger girl. "The heck? Mamm, we've got another wing of Neuroi coming out of the cloud-WHOAH!"

Minna soon panicked at Shirley's interrupted report. "Shirley, are you alright!?"

"Those darned things just buzzed us! Don't tell me... I think they are headed towards the base!"

"Shirley, Lucchini, intercept those Neuroi as best you can!" Both girls respond in the affirmative and give chase. But Minna's concern doesn't die down. These Neuroi had to have been nearby, and yet they were undetectable from her magic. She wondered how this could be so, and the only thing she could guess at was that they may have had some sort of concealment abilities. Her next question would be what were the Neuroi planning on doing now? Instead of an answer to her question, amongst the sights and sounds of battle raging all around her, every last battlefield detail detected by her magic, she is met with the sound of ringing…

* * *

><p><strong>August 16<strong>**th****-18:46:09**

**Sergeant Jay Lambert**

**85th Infantry Division**

**Camp Shelby ****Hattiesburg, Mississippi**

Many preparations have been made, but there was still even more to do. Jay had to admit that the upcoming operation was going to be nerve racking. His unit was going to be folded in with a battalion of the 4th Marine division that was tasked with Retaking New York from the north. The 4th Marine's were a Marine Reserve unit, Ironic as seeing that Jay's infantry division is also a reserve unit, though for it was the Army's Infantry Reserve. He and the other reserve personnel were getting indignant, sideways glances from the Regulars as they passed. Regulars saw reserve personnel as thrill seeking weekend warriors, men and women that didn't get what it was really like running full tours in foreign countries that you could hardly even pronounce. For the Regulars the military life was a full time job, one that you NEVER punch out from. To them the Reserve personnel were just wannabes, or cowards that could only have the military as a part time job. Jay felt hurt by the snide off handed remarks and the resentful mutters of the regulars. If he could he would have enlisted full time, be a regular just like the men and women that currently looked down on him and the others. But alas, he wasn't gifted with the best of natural endurance... the only person he knew that didn't give Jay any flack about going into the Reserve was his older brother.

Jay's eye's listed lazily across the base grounds. Infantry, Artillery, Armor, Aircraft and even Navel units were going to be tasked to the counter-offensive, and judging from the amount of Army units Uncle Sam was going to be coming in force. There was some scuttlebutt going around that other Rangers of the 75th and even Delta Units were going to be going into the grinder. Such levels of military stratagem were going to be massive. Everywhere he looked Jay could see men working hard in preparing their gear or sitting idly for the order to move out.

The motor pool was starting to get overcrowded with more vehicles then the brass possibly knew what to do with. M1 Abrams tanks, M2 Bradley's, AAV-7 Amtrack's, Stryker's, trucks and Humvees with fifty cal machineguns and Mark19 Turrets went on for row upon row. The local air force base was likely going to have a massive number of aircraft and ordinance preparing for the attack also. However, it was likely that the Russians had SAM's and other AA weaponry to prevent the Air force from getting close, so the first leg of the counter-attack was going to likely be a ground battle, with some support from the Navy and Artillery if the Army was lucky.

Jay sat amongst several men and women that had been set for a transfer to a Forward Operations Base in about five hours. Six trucks, 3 for supplies and 3 for transporting infantry, in addition for seven humvees and an Amtrack to provide Mechanised infantry support were what now made up most of his force. He sat alongside a couple fellow reservists from both his infantry unit and the 4th Marine Division's 4th Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion, using some chairs and weapons crates to sit on while alongside the Amtrak and supply trucks. The group of reservist infantry and marines for the most part were engaged in conversations ranging from idle to outright boastful, often arguments about which was better: The Army or the Corps. The Army Reservists went on about how crucial they and the Regular Infantry were while the Reserve Marines gloated about how though and badass they, the Regular and Recon Marines were. Jay saw it for what it was: Fronting and hot air. Even now with America facing enemies in its own living room, the others were still keeping the whole inter-service rivalry going. He didn't see any point to it. They were all on the same side, so it didn't matter who the best branch of the military was. The only people that ever got into such petty arguments were ignorant civilians that wanted to argue about something that didn't matter because something about a branch of the military appealed to them, some bratty punks on YouTube who had nothing better to do besides troll, flame and over act like douche bags to their fellow man, and apparently Reservists that have forgotten that they were all fighting for the same damn team.

The only person that was not getting into the whole heated debate besides him and two of the Ranger's from Hunter-2-1he had gotten acquainted with, Layman and Zander, was a lady Marine sitting in the back of one of the trucks. She had a look on her face as if she were thinking what Jay was thinking. When her eyes met with Jay's she had looked at him as if he was going to start something. Stoically, Jay just shifted his gaze to the weapon she was holding, an M249 that seemed well used. The military started upgrading most of their M249 Squad Automatic Weapons into the newer PIP or "product improvement program kit" configurations a few years back, but this one was one of the older variants that still used the plastic ammunition boxes instead of the newer "soft pack" magazines. The olive skinned woman had black, messy hair under her helmet and looked to be covered in mud and dirt, her BDU was patched with enough dirt for Jay to believe that she must have seen some fighting recently. Her face was hardened and grim, but by now his attention was already on her weapon. He failed to notice that she was eyeing him with a rather intense gaze.

"You have something to say?"

Jay made eye contact, noticing that she was challenging him. She must have thought he was going to try and start something with her. After a moment he responds evenly.

"You've seen some action too, huh?"

"Yeah..." Her gaze becomes less tense and her threatening tone becomes dulled as she responds, seeing that Jay wasn't about to pick a fight with her. "So you have a story or something?"

Jay tries to grin but he falters under the Marines gaze. "Well we all have one, right? I don't mind swapping stories if you don't."

She scoffs. "Even if it's with a Jarhead?" she asks.

"So? We're all grunts in uniform, why should it matter what branch we work in?"

She seemed to approve of this answer as she seemed to relax a little and lower her defenses. "First Army guy I've seen today who didn't have his head up his ass. My guys aren't much better, too busy fronting and thinking that they're tough guys." She motions over to the truck for him to take a seat. "Well come on, take a seat already."

Jay noticed that the other Reserve guys on both sides noticed the conversation and are gazing silently at the both of them in disbelief. Ignoring them he walks over to the truck and hops up with his M16A3 in hand. After taking a seat next to the marine he turns to her questioningly.

"You see any heavy action out there or what?"

"Oorah, heavier than a whole mountain falling on top of you and a Bobcat gnawing on your dick right afterwards."

"That bad huh? What happened?"

"Well, that's the thing; it was supposed to be a simple job right? Both my squad and three other squads had to go in to take out a bunch of Russian's held up in Chicago, some patrol that got ahead of its main force or something. Except that the patrol was larger in number then we were we're lead to believe. Fucking Battalion sized motherfuckers, know what I mean?" He noticed that when she was cursing and using the more colorful words in her vocabulary that her voice had a bit of a Spanish accented twang to it, though the rest of the time she was speaking English without any noticeable accent. She continued. "Once the bullets start flying it starts going to hell, bastardos even had a mortar platoon hitting us. Killed off one squad entirely and the other was at half its man power during the whole mess, so that just left my squad. Eight guys, four girls including me, and this UGV that we managed to get a hold of while on patrol a few days back from a downed C-17 Globemaster. We had Ivan dropping lead and arty down on us, kept our heads down so they can get close and wipe us out."

"Sounds familiar: both my guys and I were facing waves of Russians ourselves... everyone in the chain of command got killed off in the first twenty minutes and that left me trying to keep my pals from getting killed. The only thing keeping us from getting slaughtered outright was this Abrams from the First Armored that got separated from their unit. Our whole company was trying to hold up against an entire Russian Division. I guess it works out to be the same for both of us though, huh?"

"I guess so..." The marine sighs bitterly and continues her story. "We were pinned down; enemy fire was just too fucking hot. One of the girls, Sara, she was called over by our Sergeant, to help one of the guys trying to start up the UGV. Her just standing up for about one second... heavy MG fire cut her clean in fucking two, scared the shit out of the rest of us. She was an artist for Christ sake... she had a gift for drawing and painting...she was a nice kid..."

"Was she a friend?"

The marine shrugged. "Sort of... met her in basic when I joined up, and when we had some time in the barracks she asked if we would let her draw us in her sketch book, I was the only one who said yes... I still have that picture somewhere..." She shook her head, clearing the memories being dredged up and continued. "Well, after that happens Corporal Estevez got the UGV online and positioned it to flank around the enemy's right flank. While it did that, I had to lock down everything from nine to twelve o-clock downrange. I had to get down prone real low in this small depression in the ground, had some concrete rubble surrounding me for cover. Each round the Russians shot at me was inches from my head every time, couldn't even lift my head up otherwise it would have gotten taken off. UGV performed well though, managed to take out over a hundred Russians with that thing till an RPG knocked it out of commission. Then besides me the rest of the squad had to return fire, managed to handle things for a while, but it was rough. One of the other guys gets killed and two of the others get wounded. Thank god for that AC-130 that came and saved our asses, they gave us enough fire support to get the hell out of there." She eye's Jay questioningly. "So how about you, did you're guys wipe those bastards charging you or what?"

Jay laughed despite himself. "Naw, someone else came to save our asses as well."

Laymen and Zander wave at the Marine. Zander still had his legs bandaged up and Laymen's arm was in an arm brace, both men still healing their wounds from a week ago, but they insisted on returning to active duty. Jay admired soldiers that put that much conviction to their duties even despite injuries. From what Jay has seen in the past few days that there were many different types of wounded. There were the critically wounded, and walking wounded, but then you had what was called "Fighting Wounded". Little mystery who the baddest and the toughest troopers were if you keep fighting with two broken legs or with one of your arms blown up. Stories like that were starting to become rather common.

"That's us, gave these guys a hand when things were looking bad." Laymen beams. A sudden look of realization hits him and he becomes subdued as he continues. "Too bad about those guys in the Abrams though. Took a hit from an RPG and got lit up like a bonfire. Damn rotten way to go man."

Zander nods. "Good thing we got to them when we did, other wise... well, it would have gotten messy. Well… messier at any rate."

"Yeah, these guys from the 75th Ranger Regiment saved our bacon after they took out a BTR and a squad of Russian infantry that were going to hit our left flank." He turns to the two rangers with a questioning look. "Hunter-2-1 I think it was, right?"

"Roger on that." Zander replys.

The Marine's eyes widened in surprise at hearing the name the unit. "Did you just say Hunter-2-1?!"

Laymen looks at the Marine defensively. "Yeah, what of it?"

Before the Marine can say anything, an intense blue glow surrounds everyone within a diameter of sixty feet, encompassing, Jay, the two Rangers, the Marine, a few reserve army and marine personnel, two trucks and the Amtrack as well as its crew. Personnel nearby start to panic, someone can be heard giving an order to sound a general alarm.

The Marine's head scans the anomaly in panic. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!"

"Oh shit! It's the thing that does the weird disappearing thing!" Layman exclaims.

Jay's eyes transfix on the anomaly, he's stunned that it has appeared here of all places. "The anomaly... and we're right in the middle of it!" He doesn't know what's going to happen, but he can't bring himself to run. His mind is screaming to move but his feet aren't listening. The thing responsible for the disappearance of the three Rangers of Hunter-2-1 has now returned to claim him.

Everyone caught in the circle of blue light get fully enveloped by it and soon disappear just as the base alarms start to sound. One of the Ranger's that was outside of the anomalies total area turns to the group of slack jawed men and women standing around him.

"Someone get me a line to Colonel Hughes! Now!" Shakily looking around the man see's an absence of movement, everyone frozen in place and gazing at the anomaly, which has now dulled to a barely noticeable pentagram. He barks loudly for anyone to comply. "QUIT STANDING AROUND, MOVE!"

* * *

><p>Ramriez followed Foley and Dunn while they were making tracks towards the light that was enveloping the base grounds. Ursula was following; her curiosity was reaching an all-time high. This opportunity could provide more information into the anomalies very nature. While running towards the circle of light, the light brightens to an intensity that blinds them as they approach. After the bright light dies down to a weak, faint glow, the Ranger's see a group of American military personnel, two trucks and an AAV-7. The majority of them seemed to be Marines and Army troops, but the three American men noticed two familiar Ranger's from their unit, who spotted them wearing dumbfounded, terrified looks like the other unfortunate grunts. A Neuroi flying merely feet over their heads, followed by a witch close on its tail, cause every trooper to drop to the deck, strings of curses and shouts of panic escaping the new group in interdimensional travelers.<p>

Foley addresses the group after approaching them. "Well aren't you guys a sight for sore eyes. Anyone in charge of this group?"

Layman and Zander look up to find their acting commander alive and well and apparently unfazed, both men now staring at him slack jawed. Jay looked up from the ground along with the others and responds shakily.

"S-sergeant Foley? You're alive?!"

"Hell yeah, It'll take more than a leap across time and space to do us in."

"Say what?" Laymen looks around as he and the others stand up from the ground. "Sarge where the fuck are we? And what the hell were those things that just buzzed us?!"

Foley sighs. "It's a long story, but the short version of it is that we're standing in the middle of a war featuring humanity against aliens in another reality. The details can wait."

Everyone looks at the Sergeant like he was a few corndogs shy of a picnic. Then again, you couldn't really blame them; the three Ranger's reasoned that anyone would be in the same boat the first time something as weird as this happens out of the blue. Half of the new personnel were freaking out while the others were starting to ask questions anyway, not willing to accept the explanation they were just given.

A lot of them asked how the hell they got here in the first place. One Solider pointed to Ursula and asked what the hell a teenager was doing walking around without wearing any pants, a Marine asked if the Ranger's were pulling his leg. Zander asks if the two things that buzzed them earlier were the aliens, Jay asks what happened to the Rangers the whole time and the crew from the AAV-7 ask if they need to get combat ready, surprisingly willing to go along with the explanation if reluctantly.

"I know you guys just got here, but right now we've got aliens attacking this base and a power mad Psudo-German wanting to take us prisoner. Ya think we can worry about getting home first or something?!" Dunn states in a tone that seemed impossibly flat.

A women's voice speaks up from the group of military personnel that were just sucked up into this reality of aliens and magic. "And how the hell do we do that exactly?"

Ramirez recognizes the voice and speaks in astonishment, spotting the face that the voice belonged to. But it couldn't really be… "Carmen? Sis, is that you?"

The woman Marine turns to James blinking in surprise. "James?" She takes a step towards James and looks him over, as if she couldn't believe that her older brother was actually here of all places. At this point she starts speaking to James in Spanish, and with James responding in Spanish in return. They hold a rapid fire conversation in Spanish that no one could understand; at one point Dunn finally speaks up, raising his hands.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Back up a second here! Dude! You have a sister!?"

Ramirez turns to the Corporal. "Yeah, she joined the Marines a while after I joined the Rangers. Mom nearly had a heart attack when she found out one of her girls was signing up to join the Marine Corps."

Carmen scoffs. "Our older bro Marco also gave me a hard time about it; kept saying that it was too dangerous for me to do. I know he only said that stuff because he worried, but it was still damned condescending. I mean come on, he runs with SWAT of all things."

Ursula approaches the group of fighting men and women and starts off by introducing herself. After doing so she speaks plainly to them, greeting them earnestly. "Sergeant Foley has a devise that was made solely for the purpose of inter-dimensional travel. Now is the ideal time for you all to return home to your world." She turns to Carmen, looking intrigued. "I didn't know that women could serve as conventional soldiers. It must speak volumes to your world's progress in equality."

As he looks about the besieged base, Jay's eyes travel behind the three rangers nervously. "Uhh... is that the German guy you three were talking about?" he asks, pointing behind Dunn, Foley, Ramirez and the young girl that accompanied them.

Turning around, the trio of Hunter-2-1 curse at what they see: Krupke had the last two of his personal guard detail flanking him with ten base combat personnel and two jeeps with .30cal machineguns mounted on them in tow. Each weapon was pointed directly at the group of soldiers and marines from the other reality. Krupke seemed to be stuck in an awe like trance. His eyes traveled along each of weapons that his soon to be prisoners had held, finally resting upon the AAV-7 in joyous amazement.

"Wunderwaffe." He whispered to himself silently, a greedy look replacing the awe that filled his face just a second before. "Visitors of the other reality, you will lay down your arms and surrender immediately. If you do not comply I will be forced to have you shot!"

Foley frowned and adopted a siege stance with Dunn and Ramirez following his lead. "You're really going to try this now; right in the middle of an enemy raid? Are you really that greedy or just that stupid?" Laymen and Zander quickly got into position behind their fellow Rangers, getting ready to cover them in case the shit hits the fan.

Krupke ignored the Sergeants insulting remark. "This is your final warning!" He snapped. He raised his hand; preparing to give the men he was commanding the order to open fire.

The American Reserve troops were all frozen, stunned by the fact that they were facing down a bunch of WW2 throwback troops that were ready to kill them if they didn't surrender. Just when the tension was at its thickest, Carmen shoots a question at the important looking man in the dress uniform.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Krupke wasn't the only one who seemed surprised, the troops on both sides now turned to the Marine that just asked the man about ready to kill the Americans in the way you could only expect a marine to ask it. Krupke's eye's damn near leaped out of their sockets at what he was witnessing.

"A… a women?"

The sight of a woman in the service uniform of a conventional solider was something that his mind couldn't compute. Krupke saw war as a man's domain, a place in the world that women didn't belong. In his mind they were weak, fragile, emotional beings and the idea of one serving in the military shifted between laughable to outright insulting. At first he thought he was mistaken, that the person before him was just a young boy, but upon closer inspection, he could see it was indeed a women. Upon realizing what he's seeing, his blood starts to boil and his vision starts to turn red. He already had to deal with these obscene witches that were in his mind an insult to his conventional army's power. Now he was faced with this… atrocity.

"What is the meaning of this?! What are you doing in that uniform!?"

"Serving my country, what the hell does it look like, numb nuts?" Carmen replied with a prideful matter of fact tone, as if the answer was obvious.

Krupke was slowly starting to become unhinged, and it showed. His face started to turn a red tint in anger. "You dare try to mock me?! Who hell do you think you are, wearing that uniform?!"

Carmen seemed bewildered by this man's bizarre outburst. "What the fucks you're problem? You wanted to know the answer, so now you have it. I'm a woman in uniform, big whoop, it's not something unusual in this day and age."

Ramirez rolls his eyes. "Forget it sis, this guys an asshole..." _Wished she'd ease up on the cursing… she never had a mouth like that until she joined the Corps._ He thought silently. _What the hell is biting Krupke's ass here?_

"More like he's fucking nuts!" she puts in firmly. "So are you going to tell me who you are or you going to keep being butt hurt over something?"

Krupke glared at the women before him and straightened. "I am Generalveterinär Ekkehard Krupke of the Karlsland Military! And I demand to know who you are!" he roared in unbridled rage.

After a moment of processing what the man had just said, James's sister planted her feet and locked eye's on the Karlslander General. "Private Carmen Ramirez, 681046751, 4th Marine Division, 4th Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion."

Krupke's mouth dropped after Carmen spoke. Krupke was familiar with the Liberion Marine Corps, an elite infantry force that Liberion had deployed to fight the Neuroi that were entrenched in the Pacific. They were known as tough, tenacious, and lived to breath warfare; ideal, commendable troops, worthy rivals in his eyes, even if they were from Liberion: the country whose people were known for being laidback cowboys, the best of them being General Patton of the Army and the Lieutenant General known as "Chesty" Puller, a General Officer in the Liberion Marine Corps. But a woman in the ranks of such an elite combat unit, even in the ranks in its alternate version… this "America" Country… was the greatest insult of all.

A few of the base personnel behind the Karlsland General were starting to murmur in surprise. The news that the alternate reality seemed to have female combat personnel in its conventional and elite forces was a massive culture shock. One of them, a Liberion Corporal, even asked her if she was really a woman and a Marine like she said, but Krupke quickly ordered him silent.

The old Karlslander's eye' becomes as cold as ice and twice as piercing. "Damned fool of a woman, you think this is some sort of game? That you can just flaunt you're self around wherever you want without impunity? You have no damned business here and even less business wearing the uniform of a solider!"

Carmen's eyes widened, and then narrowed at Krupke's, angered by his misogynistic words. "I'm not a solider: I'm a Marine dumbass! A Devil Dog, Leatherneck, Jarhead! Are you picking this up yet?"

Ramirez glared daggers at Krupke and leveled his M4A1. "Where the hell do you get off talking to my sister like that!?"

As the weapons of the Base personnel shift to James, Foley pushes the Ranger Privates weapon down. "Easy Ramirez… just stay frosty." Foley knew that losing their shit now would only make an already bad situation into a total disaster. He started to jam his thinking into gear. He needed a plan, fast.

Seeing the desperate situation as it was, Ursula tries to appeal to the Karslander General in desperation. "Generalveterinär, please don't hurt them. They are not our enemy-"

"Shut your mouth you insolent child! You say another word and the consequences will be DIRE, do you understand, Flying Officer?!" the old Karlslander snapped, finally fed up with the young inventor and the whole situation in general.

At this the only ones who didn't seem to flinch were Krupke's two lackeys. Even the base personnel now seemed like they were reconsidering Krupke's whole position. Ursula shook fearfully like a leaf, she tried to fight back the oncoming tears but she was failing. Compared to her sister, Ursula was the level headed, well polished intellectual, but even this was far too much. She had never been yelled at by anyone like that before, never in such a manner that was as hateful as this. She didn't know what to do now.

The Ranger's of Hunter-2-1 and their fellow countrymen in uniform run the gamut of emotions, but at last they settle on a smoldering anger. They didn't like the way Krupke was speaking to Carmen and Ursula and about women in general. It was clear now that Krupke was a sexist, misogynistic old bastard who was in need of an attitude adjustment. Yelling at Ursula, a little girl was the straw that broke the camel's back. The new arrivals may not have known just what was going on, but they did know one thing: Acting like a total asshole towards a kid is sure-fire way to have people hating your guts. As the sounds of battle rage around them, the body's of the American's tense, ready to act at the command of Sergeant Foley. The Crew of the AAV-7 light up the engine of the vehicle and prepare to engage, the Witches Base personnel jumping a step back in surprise at the sound of the armored troop carrier roaring to life.

All the while, Foley seemed to be in deeper thought than normal, his face was scrunched up tightly. He knew there were better options then fighting it out, but what could he do in such a situation? It was then, with a look of realization hitting him that Foley did something surprising: He unslung his weapon and turned to the men behind him. "It's alright everyone, stand down." He turns to Ursula. "Flying Officer, on behalf of the American fighting men and women currently here, we would like to surrender to you, the Witches of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing and the 78th Tame Witches."

Everyone seemed stunned. Surrender? James, Dunn and the others knew that wasn't a Ranger word. Rangers don't surrender under any circumstances. So this was something that seemed unfathomable. But only James Ramirez and Jake Dunn noticed a look in the Sarges eyes. Something they were quick to trust... they could tell he had an idea. Both men lower their weapons.

Jay looks at the Ranger trio in bewilderment. "W-wait, what the hell are you guys doing? You're not really going to…"

Dunn turns to Jay and the others reassuringly. "Relax, trust us, alright?"

After a moment's hesitation, the American's lower their weapons. Foley motions Ursula over and she shakily approaches. Foley starts to hand over his SCAR to the young inventor, while wearing a warm smile. "I know we aren't usually supposed to surrender these, but I have no problem if it's you mamm." The look on the young inventors face was all too apparent as he placed the SCAR into her possession.

Krupke starts grinning widely. He seemed to be victorious now. These amazing, powerful weapons would soon be in his hands and the hands of his men. The Neuroi would surely be in the direst of dire straits. Perhaps he could run experiments with these weapons, make them even more powerful. The regular military would be on the way to being superior then the accursed witches now.

"Ah, very good Sergeant, you're seeing sense now." Krupke motions his men. "You two, retrieve their weapons."

"HOLD IT!" Foley's hand snaps to his sidearm and he draws it quickly from his leg holster, aiming it at Krupke. The weapons of the other American service men snap up and take aim again. The Twin Bushmaster turret of the AAV-7 takes aim at the various base infantry, the turret making an ominous whirr as its heavy guns came to bear on the comparably inferior fighting force before them. Foley sneers at the Karlslander. "I never said anything about surrendering to you asshole. I said I was surrendering to the girls here, you sir are shit out of luck. So unless you plan on getting your head out of your ass and back off then we're going to have ourselves a bit of a gunfight at the ok corral. You understand?"

Krupke first appeared to be struck dumb not believing he was hearing the ultimatum he was being given… but that stupefied expression was soon gone. Krupke had lost all patience. The old general unholstered his sidearm. "Men, prepare to fire!"

Ursula's face was plastered with horror at the events unfolding before her. The men of her reality and the other reality were facing each other down in an unwinnable standoff, all while the base was under enemy attack. It was madness. The Neuroi have come to lay ruin to the Venezia Witches Base, and it was going to be two different versions of humanity about to fight each other that is going to do them in. She was beginning to despair when a voice rang out from the heavens.

"EVERYONE STAND DOWN NOW!" Wing Commander Wilcke descended from the sky at an alarming speed, quickly applied her air brakes and hovered above the ground between both forces of soldiers. The troops from the Ranger's reality bleated, surprised to see a young girl who seemed to be just coming out of puberty and giving them an order to stand down. The base personnel were confused at the Wing Commanders order.

Krupke glowered at the young commander of the Strike Witches. "Wing Commander Wilcke, what in the name of the fatherland are you doing!?"

Minna wore a straight face as she addressed Krupke. "Forgive me Generalveterinär; you have an urgent phone call."

He seemed surprised by this. "A phone call? From Whom?!" he demanded.

"The Prime Minister of Britannia: Winston Churchill, sir." Minna held the receiver of the field telephone up to the Karlsland General. Krupke took the phone and slowly raised it to his ear. The look on his face was blank, unreadable. The conversation seemed to be one sided as Krupke became eerily quiet. At one point as the group looked on Krupke was pleading and trying to object the words of the eternally indomitable Britannian man, but of course it was to no avail. Near the end of the conversation he was as white as a sheet and sweating more than a pig in a fur coat stranded in the Sahara. At last the call ended and Krupke tossed the phone away. Foley, Ramirez and Dunn were smiling in triumph as Wing Commander Wilcke eyed the visibly shaken man. Krupke seemed about ready to explode, his eye's snapping to Minna in a look that bordered upon homicidal.

"You…" Krupke hissed. "You damned, curseable women! The Britannian Prime minister had a discussion with the Kaiser of the Fatherland, and they both came to the consensus that I'd stand down and that I'm to get reassigned!" He eyed the Wing Commander accusingly. "I know you're behind this, somehow you're responsible for this… this…." the old fool was sputtering, too enraged to even finish what he wanted to say.

Minna frowned, unimpressed by Krupke's ramblings. "I'm ashamed that my countries military has someone like you wearing its uniform, Generalveterinär." She sighed. "And to try and do something like this to guests while in the middle of an enemy raid…your own hatred, greed and arrogance was your downfall. You have no one to blame but yourself: you're static, close-mindedness and unwarranted, blatant bigotry have forever marked you as not only an inferior commander but an inferior person."

Krupke's eye twitched as he began to slowly loose his composure. "W-what did you just say to me? You god damned…do you have any idea who you're dealing with?! I'll see to it that you're wing is dismantled again and that you face court martial! I will make it my mission in life to see you damned school children either behind bars or back in your homelands where you belong!"

Minna's face was flat, as was the tone of her voice as she responded. "Frankly my girls and I have more important things to worry about, seeing as that the enemy is literally in our airspace. So if I may Generalveterinär, I'd recommend you and you're men either find a post or evacuate the base."

Krupke could be read like an open book. Whatever little restraint he had before has gone completely out the window, his body tensed and his hand had a firm grip on his sidearm. "Damn you Wilcke you damned bloomer wearing tart! I'll make you regret ever being born once I'm through with you! " Before anyone knew what was happening, before Krupke could level his Mauser on the wing Commander, Carmen surged forward and knocked his weapon off target and out of his hand. But that wasn't the shocking part. The shocking part was when her other hand shot to the space between Kruke's legs, grabbed hold of him in the most tender part of a man's anatomy…and then squeezed.

Everyone gasped in shock. Men cringed and squirmed as they watched Carmen inflict the most unbearable of pain that a man could possibly face. Even Minna, Ursula and a couple women who were present were mortified by what they were seeing. Krupke was screaming at the top of his lungs in ungodly pain, once his voice fell into pained groans and whimpers, Carmen gritted her teeth as she spoke angrily to the man she had at her mercy.

"You remind me of this asshole I used to date back in high school. Damned cocksucker thought a bit like you, except he also had the idea to use me as his own personal punching bag whenever it suited him. Wasn't long before I decided to give him a taste of what THAT feels like!" She squeezed tighter, elected a painful cry from the old man, tears already flowing down his cheeks.

Jay shielded his eyes, not wanting to watch this cringe worthy display. "Sweet Zombie Jesus, will you PLEASE stop doing that!"

While everyone else has objections to one degree or another or feeling outright horrified, James Ramirez seemed more impressed by his sister's apparent choice of action. He was amazed that she had just started crushing this man's family jewels with her bare hand while a potentially hostile force could only look on in horror.

"Damn sis, did joining the Marine's turn you into a badass or what?"

Dunn was looking at the Private's sister with a mortified expression. "Aw dude! That ain't right man, that ain't right!"

James scoffed, looking Dunn in the eye. "You saying that this women hating douche bag that gets off on ordering his men to rape little girls should be let off scot free?"

Before Dunn could respond, Carmen turned to her brother, looking wide eyed. "He did what?! You sick, son of a-" Angrily Carmen tightened her gip further and then twisted as hard as she could. A high pitched cry escaped Krupke while everyone cringed.

Even Foley seemed to appear squeamish. "Ah, I'm thinking we all felt that. I think that's good enough Private, you can stand down, Hooah?"

Regaining her composure, Minna approached Krupke and put on the most deathly glare she could muster. "Listen and heed my words very carefully: These Rangers and their fellow countrymen are our guests and are to be treated as such, as are the men of Task Force 141 should they ever return with Captain Barkhorn. You were given orders by the most influencal of men of our world. You will stop this close-minded bigotry and act like a proper host to these good people, otherwise I may very well let this Marine continue to physically assault you're man hood until you decide to stop tarnishing the good name of the Karlsland Uniform. We witches fight alongside the conventional forces respectfully; we need them as every bit as they need us, so this nonsense you are infecting the minds of your men with WILL stop. Is that clear?"

Krupke whimpered and nodded quickly. Minna then nodded to Carmen Ramirez. "Could you please stand down Private?" she asked.

"Uh… alright." Carmen unhanded Krupke's unmentionables and quickly kicked him in his already tender manhood. Krupke doubled over in pain that was indescribable, writhing pathetically on the ground. His two lackeys looked at their incapacitated General in shock. When they turn to face of the Marine responsible for this horrific assault she glares at them and flexes the same hand she used to inflict the unspeakable on the old Karlslander. "You guys want some?" she threatened.

Both of them glanced at each other nervously and responded "Nien!"

"Yeah, I thought so." She turns to Minna and looks her up and down, still struggling like the others to take in all the weird stuff that was going on around them. "So… you can fly huh?"

"Of course, there's nothing a witch can't do."

Foley approaches the Wing Commander and nods his head. "Thank you mamm, my boys and I owe you everything for getting our asses out of the fire. I only wish we could repay you somehow…"

"It's quite alright Sergeant Foley, you and you're fellow countrymen are welcome here on base anytime." Minna turns to the base personnel and gives them their orders. "Someone help the Generalveterinär someplace secure, and see to it that he and his subordinates don't cause these people any more trouble. The rest of you get to your posts and defend this base from the enemy." Minna's face hardens suddenly. "Two enemy Neuroi incoming at 9 o-clock, moving to engage!" Two Neuroi rake the base grounds with laser fire and buzz the group overhead. Minna salutes the Sergeant of Hunter-2-1 which he returns, and she quickly moves to pursue the offending aliens, leaving Ursula with the Rangers and the other Americans.

"So I guess it is time for you to return home?" Ursula asks.

"Looks that way, if nothing else this whole trip was… different. I hope you can handle these damn Neuroi guys by yourself... we could hold off going back for just a few minutes to help out if you-"

"It's aright Sergeant. You have done so much already… besides… you're country needs you. It wouldn't be right for us to stand between you and you're duty to your homeland."

Foley spends a moment looking over Ursula and grinned. He saw that she really had her priorities straight. "Your right about that… tell the girl's thanks for letting us help out during our stay… and tell Sergeant Miyafuji that I can see a lot of potential in her and to always do her best."

Ursula chuckled. "I'll let her know. Thank you Sergeant."

"All the same… I still feel like…" Foley turns to Jay and asks him a question. "Hey Lambert, what's in those trucks over by the Amtrack?"

Jay pondered the question for a second. "Crates containing Ammunition and varying small arms, why do you ask?"

Foley gestures over to Ursula, beaming proudly. "These young ladies helped us when we were in some serious shit, so it's only fair that we repay them somehow, so I'm thinking I give the scientist here a crate or two of arms and ammo to study. These guys need something to fight these freaky aliens, so I'm thinking 21st century fire power might give them an edge."

One of the soldiers looked suspiciously at Ursula. "Are you sure about that? I mean, can we really trust these guys? Besides its weapons and gear that our guys need."

Foley nods. "I trust the witches with my life. Give them a crate of weapons, ammo, a few weapon attachments in addition to the operator's manuals. If any of the brass back home object to a crate of lost gear then I'll take all the heat for it."

Ursula gasped. Foley was really going to give them futuristic, conventional weapons technology. It was more then she could think possible. She orders two men belonging to the base guard detail to help two American infantry men get a pair of crates out of the back of one of the trucks. They were standard, large sized airdrop crates containing various arms, munitions, explosives and weapons attachments. Contained within were M16A4's, M4A1's, M203's, a couple shotguns, grenades, four SCAR's (two L's and two H variants) MP5's consisting of several variants, a pair of riot shields, one M249, one MK48, two M240's , an M60E3, several M9 pistols, two Mk14EBR's and R700's, an M82A1 Barrett, an Intervention, three SMAW's and a Javelin. One crate had a box full of NVG's and Thermal devices so Foley was sure to add that along with everything else, in addition to a couple ballistic vests which he insisted that Ursula take.

After the two crates of gear were moved Foley called everyone to the center of the dull glowing circle. "Alright everyone, I don't know about the rest of you but I'm ready to head home to kick some Russian ass, so who's with me?"

The American's let loose a cheer in response. Ursula salutes the Ranger's and their comrades with a smile. "It was an honor to meet you, please stay safe everyone."

Dunn laughs. "We'll try mamm. You guys stay frosty, Hooah?" He turns to the Sergeant "I'm all set Sarge, let's get back home!"

James was grinning from ear to ear. "No place like home dude." He turns to his sister questioningly. "Hey sis, how were things back home? Are mom, dad and everyone else doing alright?"

Carmen became visibly uncomfortable. "I think… we should wait until we get home, is that okay?"

James seemed confused by this. "Well, I guess. Is something wrong?"

"I promise I'll tell you, but not now big bro, okay?"

The young ranger stared at his younger sister as an uneasy feeling settled in his gut. For some reason his sisters hesitation was making him anxious. He suddenly hears a voice speak out on his comm.

"Ramirez! Hey Ramirez, are you still their?"

James is surprised; did he still have his radio set to the witches comm Channel? "Roger that Lucchini, I'm still here, but it looks like I won't be for long."

"Aw man, you're going back home? I still wanted to hang out with you a little more."

James laughed. "Maybe some other time kid. I've still got a war to fight."

"Okay, but the next time you come back we're going to play tag and collect bugs!"

"Whatever you're up for kiddo..." James had to admit, Lucchini and the other girls were starting to grow on him.

Foley manipulated the MAPPED, once he's finished, the device springs to life, the rune beneath the feet of the American's growing from a dull glow to a bright blue light that became blinding. Once they were fully enveloped and had disappeared Ursula heard a frightening sound.

Turning to the direction of the sound, she sees one of the walls to the base getting breached and getting fully enveloped in a smokescreen, followed by a group of fast moving ground based Neuroi that had barrelled out of the cloud of smoke at breakneck speeds. She could see that they were headed straight towards her.

"Neuroi ground unit's incoming! Repel their attack!"

The Base personnel started to open fire; the jeeps started getting mobile to intercept the small group of Neuroi that were fast approaching. The jeep gunners opened fire with their .30cals and raking the Neuroi with suppressing fire. Two of the Neuroi returned fire and the jeeps and their occupants quickly disappeared, vaporized by Neuroi Laser technology. The wheel-shaped ground Neuroi screeched as they got close to the anomaly, once they surrounded it the group unfolded their legs from their body, in addition to another appendage that seemed to be of unknown function. This mystery appendage buried into the ground and into the edge of the rune. The Neruoi's red hexagons denoting a laser weapon port began to glow. Ursula watched as the base personnel tried to destroy the Neuroi, but mundane, unenhanced firearms did little to pierce the Neuroi's armoured shells. She then saw something that made her heart race in fear: The anomalies calming blue glow began to change to that of an angry red. An angry red... just like that of the Neuroi...

Another screech was heard, this time from the sky, the young witches head craned upwards to see a wing of small scout Nueroi approaching. The aerial Scouts raked the ground with laser fire, three of the blasts striking the rune besides the base grounds and the base itself. The scouts flew into the bright red pillar of light, followed by the ground based wheel Neuroi soon after. Ursula realized just how dire the situation had become for the Ranger's and the people of their reality. Was this what the Neruoi wanted all this time, another world to conquer and take as their own?

One of the base personnel points up towards the sky. "Hey watch out, we've got another one!"

Ursula spots another Neuroi, but this one seemed different from the others. It was small in shape and seemed more like a sort of creature then an aircraft. Strangely enough aside from dogging weapons fire from base personnel at their stations, it was also avoiding laser fire from other Neuroi. She was baffled that other Neuroi were trying to destroy this one particular Neuroi. The small Neruoi flew into the shinning pillar that emanated from the anomaly, disappearing in the flash of light. The rune blinked rapidly, cycling between red and blue. The rune then dulled to a faint, weak glow and finally settled on an uncharacteristically white colour. The magical energy remained but Ursula could sense a substantial change in it at this current location. She then heard a radio message from Mio on an open channel.

"Everyone be advised, the remaining enemy Neuroi are breaking off! I say again, the enemy is disengaging. I don't understand… why are they giving up now?"

Shirley laughed. "Who cares, they're running scared! We won!"

Ursula however had reason to believe otherwise. "Wing Commander, I need scientists as well as my mana and either monitoring equipment."

Wing Commander replied with concern ringing in her voice. "Is something wrong Doctor Heartmann?"

"I have to find that out mamm." Ursula had a profound feeling of dread as a thought came to her, about what exactly the Neuroi were planning. And it frightened her beyond belief.

* * *

><p>Jay finds that he, the men of Hunter-2-1 and their fellow countrymen are back at the base, now at high alert with soldiers aiming weapons at them fearfully. Fortunately some of the base personnel recognize them, preventing a serious case of friendly fire. Colonel Hughes stood amongst the base personnel with Lieutenant Colonel Keating joining him. Hughes looks at Jay and the others in surprise as Jay salutes and addresses him.<p>

"Colonel, Sergeant Foley and his men have been found sir."

Foley and his men snap to attention as he greats the Colonel. "Sorry about going AWOL sir, but it wasn't something that my men and I had planned. It was a bit of a wild trip to be honest."

Keathing studied the anomaly in amazement. "Holy cow, this thing is huge! I have never seen anything like this!"

Hughes blinked, still seemingly stunned. "Foley, where in god's name have you been this entire time son?"

"Well sir, it's a bit of a long story but-" Just as Foley was about to give a full verbal report on the situation, to everyone's surprise the anomaly starts to behave differently. It flickered, and the light blue light changed to a dark red. Foley, Dunn and James Ramirez recognized the familiar tint.

James looks down at the anomaly in mild-surprise. "Okay, that's new."

"Hey guys, I don't think it's supposed to do that!" Dunn stated in a panicky voice.

"Oh shit! Move!" Foley orders everyone to get out of the anomaly. Just as they start scrambling and the Amtrack moves out of the perimeter of the rune, laser fire shoots out from the anomaly, severing the arms of one of the men and soon followed by a group of black shapes that Foley and his two closest squad mates are quick to recognize.

"CONTACT! OPEN FIRE! OPEN FIRE!" Foley, Dunn and the Ramirez siblings open fire on the Neuroi as they start flying out of the base airspace, traveling North-West and shooting lasers blazing on their way out of the base. Other personnel soon join in, but due to the shock and awe of making first contact with the alien invaders of another world, they only manage to take down one of the Neuroi. Soon following the small airborne Neuroi out of the anomaly are a unit of ground types, and they start traveling due south. The Amtrack tries to get a bead on them but the ground based Neuroi are very fast and doge auto cannon fire with some ease, most of them only taking an occasional graze, though the Amtrack managed to get two lucky kills, the ground Neruoi blast and barrel over anything in their way and crash through the fenced off perimeter.

As these Neuroi start traveling out of sight, a final Neruoi emerges from the anomaly, this particular Neuroi didn't open fire but instead kept speeding through the sky at a ridiculous rate. This last Neuroi just dodged incoming fire while travelling eastwards. Personnel are scrambling to tend to the wounded and react to the sudden, inexplicable attack out of nowhere.

Hughes shakily turns to Foley while in a cold sweat. "SEARGENT, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

"Trouble sir, my men and I were in an alternate reality where it's the 1940's and humanity is stuck fighting those things.""

If this were a week ago Hughes probably wouldn't believe or accept this as an explanation, but that was then and this was now. He needs to know as much as he possibly can. "Sergeant, you and you're men as well as everyone else with you are to be debriefed right this second. I need you to give me Intel on everything you and you're men experience. Spare no details."

"Roger that sir."

As the group is escorted to a debriefing area, James Ramirez and his sister are engaged in a conversation that was spoken in Spanish. For a while it was even toned, but then whatever conversation they were holding made them visibly troubled. Once it was over James had a blank look on his face while his sister was silent, her eyes becoming misty. Foley and Dunn kept an eye on the conversation and when they find James returning to silence they both take note of it.

Dunn looks over to James with concern. "Hey man, are you okay? What have you both been talking about?"

After a moments silence, a pained look over took James as his face scrunched up. "Carmen… my sis…she said that….." His voice was cracking as he tried to explain. "My family…..they're gone…..they're all gone. We're the only ones left…" He tries to wipe the tears forming in his eyes before they start to flow. "God..."

Both men silently wrap their arms around younger mans shoulders, trying to comfort their battle brother. Many people have suffered at the hands of the Russians, so many lives and families broken, far too many evils that trespassed upon the souls of others since the invasion of the USA. Now there was yet another sad tale to add to the tragedy.

The only thing Foley can do is help support his men and guide them through the turbulence of war. "I know it hurts son... but no matter what, we're right here alright? Don't hesitate to ask for help, because we'll come a running for ya."

James tried to hold back the tears, but they came anyways. It wasn't long until something else mixed with the young Ranger's sorrow. When he thought about the Russians that had struck down his family… the emotionally hurting Ranger was filled with rage.

Sorrow.

Anger.

What came forth from those two things was a damaged, vengeful heart. And that vengeful heart cried for justice. Even though he was embraced by his comrades in arms they felt distant. His eyes fell upon his weapon: The M4A1 slung on his shoulder that he had used since the evacuation of Washington. He wanted to use his rifle on the Russians, now more than ever. He wanted to engage the Russians occupying his country. He wanted to kill every last Russian soldier that had stepped foot upon American soil. Then he wanted to follow them back to Russia, and reduce every single target he acquired in his sights. For his friends, his family, his country. Nothing else mattered.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The night was dragging on and for a while things seemed to be going smoothly. Ghost and Gertrud had followed their mark and kept a close eye on him, though now the man and his pals had gone outside to a small dining area and had passed out at their table. Ghost and Gertrud had followed them from the dance floor but now have hit a bit of a snag now that their mark and his buddies are now out of commission at the moment, having gotten so drunk that they passed out. Ghost knew that not every mission was fast paced, exciting or glamorous, but this was probably starting to chalk up to be the saddest mission of the week. So now the pair had some time to kill. Ghost kept his eyes on his target while in his seat, but Gertrud wanted to talk to the Lieutenant, to learn more about him. Now would be as good a time and would be her only opportunity to do so for tonight. As she sat at the table across from the Lieutenant she finally worked up the nerve to speak.

"Ghost, can I ask you something?"

Ghost looked to the young witch questioningly. "What do you want to ask?"

"I know you're a good soldier and one of the most disciplined people I have ever met, and I admire that. I know we're both on a mission and that it may not be the most ideal time but all the same, I want to know about your life. How did you get to where you are now?"

The older operator sighed. "That again huh? You don't know what you're asking luv."

"Actually I do. I have asked this of you several times and yet you never answer."

"Not true, I told you about some of the stuff I was a part of here in my world."

Gertrud furrowed her brow as she spoke, she could see that Ghost was trying to avoid the subject. She didn't understand why he was acting like this. "That was recent events and you know it, I'm talking about before that. Things that happened to you before this war."

The corner of the older operator's mouth shifted. He grunted in annoyance, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He kept silent. Gertrud was growing agitated. Why wouldn't he share anything with her? Was it because he thought she wouldn't understand. Aside from the enemy each world fought, it wasn't all that different. The camaraderie and the danger involved were both steady constants, that couldn't be it. Could it be... did he still not trust her, after all this time?

"Don't you trust me?" she asked, a barely restrained tone of accusation mixed into her question.

He hesitated a moment. "It's not a question of trust..." He replied slowly.

"Then it must be because I'm just some foolish little girl who isn't worth the time? Is that it?!"

He seemed genuinely confused. "What, where the hell is this coming from? Look, it's not for any reason like that. If it were then you wouldn't be here right now."

Gertrud stood up from the table and planted both hands on the table top angrily, which surprised Ghost. She was tired of the secrets, of the stubbornness making him an island. Just once she wanted a straight answer, some truth and insight. But now it looked like she would might not get any. It made her feel alienated, ignorant, alone...and she hated that feeling. "Damn it, how can I understand you and get any semblance of camaraderie with you if you shut me out?! I've already tried stuff like that for a long time as a soldier and as I look back on it I see more and more how much of an idiot I was! Whenever the other girls tried to let me in I pushed them away. Even Minna Wilcke, my CO and best friend next to Heartmann tried to help me but instead of letting her I buried myself in my guilt, pity and self-loathing. And now-" She finally shook her head and turned to leave Ghost, wanting to get some space to cool off for a bit, Ghost's attitude reminding her too much of her own past foolishness. "I can't handle this."

"Trudy wait!" Ghost's hand reached out and grabbed her arm as she was starting to leave. She turned around to get him to back off, but then she saw the look in his eyes, it made her freeze completely. His face was strained in an expression she never saw before. He was silent but his face... his eyes were pleading her not to leave. His face contorted and shifted, like he was struggling with something internally. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, pushed up his sunglasses, and then relaxed. He looked her dead in the eye.

"Okay Captain... before I start I want to explain... please." he said at last. Gertrud turned to face him, waiting for him to continue. "You must understand that a lot of things that I've been through... they're not pretty, luv. Few people I know have gone through things as messed up as me and however few that did go through such things are either dead or spending time in the funny farm." He sighs. Noticing a waiter he gestures him over and asks for a bottle of scotch on the rocks and a bottle of Jaggermiester. Then he continues. "I keep a lot of it deep down in here..." He points to his head, tapping it twice. "If I go about telling everyone about it then people will start seeing things that they won't like... stuff that I don't even like looking at. The last person I talked to about my problems gave me a solution that put me in a bloody no win situation in regards to my military career and she wound up getting killed because she knew a lot of my dirty little secrets... tried to save her but...well, bad guys with 40 millimetre high explosive and bollixed up heads tend to make a big mess. Only other time I shared it I used it to distract some hostage takers in the Ukraine, left the owner of that story anonymous to the listeners." When the waiter returned he poured Gertrud the German alcohol and Ghost his scotch, though Ghost told him to leave the bottles. He retrieved his glass and spoke again to the young witch of the 501st, whose face had softened by now at Ghost's explanation "Are you sure you want know all this stuff about me?"

Gertrud returned to her seat. "Whatever you're past was, I won't judge. I just want to listen and understand. That's all."

"Alright, but you might want a drink while we do this." he gestured over to the glass of Jaggermiester in front of her.

"We shouldn't drink, we're on duty."

Ghost downed the glass and then poured another. "Trust me, if either of us is going to get though this we're both going to need at least one stiff drink. Besides, it'll help with the whole blending in thing." He paused. "Discipline... precision... control...these are things that I built my life on even when it seems like I didn't have any of them. Break it all down, like how I'm going to now... and all the dark stuff rattling around in my head will start oozing out."

Reluctantly Gertrud took the glass and took a quick sip, the German brew hitting her taste buds sharply. She sets the glass down and she began to listen to Ghost's life story. For the next half hour Ghost explained the few ups and many downs starting from his childhood onwards. He told her of how messed up his father made his life and that of his family, not holding back anything, and how he was an apprentice butcher for a few years in his late teens and early adulthood. He told her about his time enlisted in the British Army, the SAS shortly after and the time he had to confront his father on who took care of his mom and brother, in the end having to beat his old man's face into hamburger while in full dress uniform. But it really started getting messy when Ghost got to the mission to take out Manuel "El Gordo" Roba.

Trudy took a slow drink. "What happened during that mission?" she asked.

"Anything and everything went wrong. It put our bodies and minds to the test. A lot of pain involved." He replied. "The thing about pain is that it brings up things that show a man who he really is inside. Like it or not..." He told her about how the first man to die on the mission, named Sykes, was killed due to the fact his chute didn't deploy even though the yank was paranoid about airborne ops enough to ALWAYS check his chute before each jump, in the end it turned out to be sabotaged. How during the op Cumberland was caught and had his nads hacked off, how Major Vernon turned out to be compromised, killing Cumberland after showing his true colours to Riley and how Simon, Washington and Sparks were captured by Roba and his men, tortured and had their minds messed with for days. Gertrud found the details to be horrendously graphic...

* * *

><p><em>Simon was already getting cuts on his face from the torture he went through before. The rifle wound he sustained from a long barrelled bolt action that Roba himself fired during his attempted and failed escape though healing was still tender. Now he was fighting Washington against his will, and during the brawl having flashbacks about the fist fight he had with his father years ago. He kept hearing his father's voice drone on about his glory days of youth, and then berating his son for being a soldier, calling him "a hit man for the queen", "a robot" and finally "feeling ashamed to call him son". With a final right hook that Simon threw Washington goes down like a sack of potatoes. Stopping to catch his breath, the SAS man overhears Roba speaking to Major Vernon, though he felt quite out of it.<em>

_"Bring him to the tent for a talk. Have the women waiting."_

_Vernon turned to Roba in disapproval. "It's too soon. I'm telling you, he's not even close to ready for stage two. He held back with Washington. When he's ready he'll kill. Break him first." He gestures over to a large, wooden box with a slot in it and a steel padlock securing the top. "Put him in the box."_

_Two men approach and roughly man handle Riley, forcing the weakened SAS man into the wooden prison. Once locked inside the confined quarters of the box one of the men drops a scorpion into the slot. As the men leave a surprised grunt is heard from inside, followed by frantic banging. The padlock on the box bounces from the force of each impact from within. Faint, pained groans can be heard from inside._

* * *

><p>Ghost went into detail about every single method of torture and methods of psychological manipulation save for one, which he hinted at and then went on to the next set of nasty acts after. Having a sweaty, moustached rat of a man licking you're face while doing a number of perverted things was something that Ghost had to block out. Before it all went down he had to numb his mind and consciousness, a sort of mental defence against that stuff was needed. By now Gertrud had less objections to the Jaggermiester sitting on the table, pouring and consuming more alcohol as Ghost went on... she began to wonder if she should have let Ghost's past remain a mystery...<p>

* * *

><p><em>The room was a torture chamber of sorts. Solid concrete walls that were grey and cold. In one side of the Room a set of doors led to a makeshift operating room, but its function was not the sacred profession of medical healing. Two men and a heavy set women in medical garbs surrounded a stripped and blindfolded Sparks, the women restraining him as One man was digging into their subjects assorted set of chest wounds while the unfortunate Delta Operator was still aware of what was happening, as another man held up a needle with some unknown liquid drug inside it. As the one man in scrubs pinched at one of his wounds Sparks was vomiting onto the table, his face getting covered in his own bile. In the other room adjacent Simon was facing issues of his own...the cell doors open, Roba and Vernon enter, Simon laying on the floor wearing only his boxer briefs while in a near comatose state while the henchmen charged with this current phase of torture hiked up his jeans and did up the button. Roba speaks to Vernon while looking over Riley,.<em>

_"I have made certain promises to the Afghans that doorways would be opened... you've already compromised yourself..."_

_"Have some patience. What do you think was going on in Abu Ghraib? Do you think that was for fun? People will never know the good that was done there." Vernon walked into the room that Sparks was being tortured in, watching as the man with the needle started to inject something into him. Roba soon followed and Vernon gestured over at the act happening before their eyes. "Your techniques are amazing. But you brought me in to lower the mortality rate. Sparks is on the verge. The drugs have kept him awake for eighteen days now."_

_Vernon turns back to the cell Riley was left in, watching the Lieutenant rolling over onto his stomach weakly. Simon seems to be looking up at something in the ceiling, but he collapses and passes out. "Riley though... he needs more time. You're not going to get another chance with an S.A.S. YOUR ways aren't going to get you this man's SOUL."_

_Roba's eyes dart to Vernon. He looked unimpressed. "I fucking have YOURS. And I didn't have YOU jabbering in my ear like a woman when I did it. I tell you, "Major", the more impressed I am with this English, the more disgusted I am with you. You have had enough time. I will live with my mortality rate." The fat, goateed Mexican man turns around and starts walking away, silently debating on the fate of the Major. "After all you're all expendable, aren't you."_

* * *

><p>Each day starting with a human skull and some girl named Pilar trying to get him off and each day ending with Riley having a meat hook lodged in his ribcage while hanging from a tree. It all came to an end with Sparks and Washington escaping, failing to break Ghost out of his cell and moments later he was being buried alive with Major Vernon's already decomposing corpse and his only means of escape was with the dead man's jawbone in thirteen hours. Before attempting to give Simon his supposed dirt nap "ElGordo" admitted he was impressed with the SAS man, even respectful, still didn't mean much when he had his men burry Simon six feet under.<p>

Gertrud looked pale by now. The hand she used to hold her drink was trembling while a sickening feeling filled the pit of her stomach. She had heard many sad and grim stories, but Ghost's life story would seem to be rivalling them all. "How did you get out of there?" she asked shakily.

Ghost scoffed."To tell ya the truth I was so out of it I can barely remember." He scratched his chin as he tried to piece his own thoughts together, most of it a blur though he recalled occasional bits and pieces. "I get the vague impression of just... following my feet. People helping me. A month later I was dehydrated, delirious and all the sores that covered my body were infected. I laid down to die when civilian law enforcement found my beat up old carcass. Some oversized Texan in a fifty gallon hat standing over me and trying to figure out if I was dead or not. Somehow during this gruelling hike I reached Texas and a week later I'm back in England. Four months of what I can only call hell."

"It must have been hard... to cope with all that.."

Ghost nodded. "Extremely... think of the worst possible scenario you can imagine and it won't even come close..."

* * *

><p><em>Simon had had on and off nightmares for the past few months but they were getting more and more frequent. He just wanted to get back to serving with his unit but his CO''s hands were tied. He tried telling the CO that the nightmares had stopped but while the man needed no convincing he still had to follow the protocol on this sort of thing. Simon spent time with his mom and brother. His dad was laid out in the hospital with cancer, but Simon had no intention to see the damned old bastard.<em>

_He was still stuck in Doctor Halloway's office, trying to help get Simons mind right, but he was being a difficult patient. She tried to understand but for this to work Simon had to talk about the problems he was having and the things rattling around in his mind._

_"Are you afraid of what might happen?" she asked him. "You might find closure."_

_Simon was laying back in his chair. He knew she was just doing her job when the subject of his father came up, but all the same he was adamant not to go see him. And so far he avoided telling her about the nightmares, frightening things about treating women badly, even violently, and constantly being haunted by the spectre of Manuel Roba himself. If he told her about nightmares like these then his chances of staying in the SAS or the military for that matter would be next to none. When she inquired about his father, even having heard about how Simons mom even urged him to see the sickly old man she could see a sort of rift between father and son. She likely thought that perhaps fixing this rift would help Riley's state of mind. Simon at last had to explain something to the doctor._

_"Dr Halloway, I've been all over the world. I've met many kinds of characters. Most of them are stupid. Or greedy. Sometimes they're power mad. Which is just greedy and smart." He shifted in his chair. "Every once in a while you meet a man who's evil. I mean pure evil. Real evil. Evil you can feel in you're bones. The guy in Mexico, Roba.. "El Gordo". He's power mad. Sadistic... but he's not pure evil. Nothing like my father."_

_The psychiatrist's brow furrowed. "What did he do to make you form this opinion?" Simon grew silent as a troubled look crossed him, then his face turned to disgust. "Lieutenant Riley?"_

_"That's the thing about evil, doctor. You don't have to DO anything." he looked away from her and directed his attention to the wall. He sighed, struggling to articulate how he felt. In the end he made a simple statement to the doctor. "It's a feeling. Inside."_

* * *

><p>Ghost was starting to build up closer and closer to the moment that effectively killed the last little bit of himself that had survived up until that point. At the time he knew that something messed him up in the head at a young age, but as a child he repressed that memory of what happened in the public bathroom during the Bone Lickers concert, so in his older years he never knew just why he hated his dad this much or just what had happened. It wasn't until the event he was about to impart to Gertrud that he'd have to go to the last person he wanted to see for closure and answers. He could see that Gertrud was silent and straight faced; she also seemed to be breaking into a cold sweat.<p>

He looked over at their mark for a minute. The three men were still passed out, having consumed far too much alcohol earlier. He took another drink, and then looked emphatically at the young witch. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked softly.

Gertrud wordlessly shook her head. She wanted to hear it all until the end. She needed to: No matter how grim it got. She was the one to ask and plea and insisted that she'd hear Simon's life story, so now she was getting every ugly detail in full view of the light, and she wasn't about to shy away from all of it now.

Ghost sighed, downed another drink and continued, starting to feel a bit of a buzz from the Scotch.

* * *

><p><em>Simon was driving the Taxi he had commandeered, just narrowly escaping Sparks and Washington trying to kill him. Sparks came to Simons home, smiling, jovial, greeting him like a buddy, glad to see him alive and waiting to go to a pub for a drink. It seemed like something uneventful but as time went on Simon noticed something... "off"... about Sparks. He had nightmares like Simon, which wasn't too surprising. But the American man said he took pills for it, and that once he stopped fighting them it became a sort of "Wish Fulfillment" of sorts. The flare went up when Sparks quoted Roba: how Rules were just bars that man makes to keep himself in a cage, and once you realize this supposed fact that you'd be a free man and it's everyone else who's in prison. Then he was asked how the British man got out, so he gave Sparks the answer he wanted to hear; that one day he woke up and decided that the bars didn't have to be there, knowing that his life would depend on this answer. After they left the club Sparks tried to rape a women, but Simon's quick thinking stopped it while he played cool to avoid breaking his cover, try and get more info on just how deep Sparks was in all this.<em>

_But back at Spark's motel room Ghost gave himself away when the yank had the shakes and asked if Simon had the pills that he assumed he had, which of course the British man hadn't. Once Washington walked in on them about to tell Sparks that he just came back from doing something while Simon was trying to press the brainwashed yank for information and a motive for his betrayal that the SAS man had to escape out a window and grab the nearby taxi, taking a stray bullet to the leg, hastily patching it once he was sure he lost them. _

_Simon drove the car hard around the winding streets as fast as he could go. He was on his cell phone trying to call ahead to his mom and brother, trying to see if they were alright._

_"Come on... come on... " there was no answer on the other line. Simon pressed the accelerator down closer to the floor, he didn't ease up until he came within view of the house. The cars headlights fell upon the front door, It was ajar, signs of forced entry were clear. Simon's heart leaped to his throat, this couldn't really be happening. He stepped out of the car and charged into the front door, hoping against hope that his family was alright._

_"Shit!"_

_He looked around in the darkness, but he didn't have to go far to find the gruesome discovery that was awaiting him. Entering the living room he gapped at the bloody carnage. His mom slumped in her lounger, the wall and chair stained with blood. Tommy's wife, Beth, laying in a crimson pool next to an overturned Christmas tree, a look of horror painted on her face that seemed frozen in time. His brother, Tom, lying face down... and beneath his body was his son. Simon's Nephew; little Joseph, his toy plane, a model of an F-15 resting just at arm's length of him. His family was all killed... executed. The wounds inflicted on his murdered family clearly apparent of that of a 9mm sidearm, likely an M9 Beretta. Simon stood in the middle of this terrible mess, his eyes started to fill with tears... he was wracked with terrible rage. Soul crushing grief. But there was another feeling, one that scared the hell out of Riley. One made him question everything. _

_Simon didn't weep. Nor did he scream in anger. _

_He laughed._

_He laughed in giddy, manic laughter. He was in a fit of uncontrolled laugher as he stood amongst the bodies of his family. It grew louder and louder. Then he realized his reaction... his laugher amongst a scene of death and violence to those close to his heart. He clutched his head and struggled to stifle his laughter. He wanted to stop laughing, but he could barley silence his snickering or even keep it at that. A flash came to his eyes as a shadow in his subconscious came through. The shadowed figure was Roba wearing skeleton face paint, smirking and pointing at the British man._

_"You like this, no, English?" he laughed. "El Gordo makes it good for you." _

_The image in his mind fading, Simon knew that he was off his rocker. He started to fear that he was going to become just like Sparks and Washington and become Robas bitch. Brainwashed, just like those damned yanks responsible for this wanton murder. He was terrified of this. Robotically Simon limped off to his old bedroom and approached a dresser; the lamp resting on top is turned on once he reaches the side of his bed. He opens the top drawer and felt though the clothes, until his hand rested on the familiar cold steel hidden amongst the fabrics. From the drawer, chuckling and straining to stifle his laughing, he produced the Colt .45 1911; still loaded. Grunting and feeling the sickest he has ever felt before, he tightened his grip on the pistol, closed his eyes, and placed the barrel of the gun into his mouth...his trigger finger started to slowly squeeze..._

* * *

><p>Ghost downed another glass of Scotch and brought the glass down on the table a little harder then he intended. "Aw... bugger, I better ease up on this stuff before my liver charges me with assault." Shrugging and rolling his head nonchalantly he poured one more hit into his glass. As he was about to take another swig he looked up to Gertrud, finding her eerily silent. She was looking down at the glass of Jaggermiester resting on the table in front of her. She seemed haunted by something. "Are you alright?" he asked her worriedly.<p>

Her reply was barley a whisper. "What stopped you that night?"

"Hm? What do ya mean?"

"What stopped you from..." she hesitated, her voice cracked for a moment but she swallowed and tried asking Ghost her question, her voice now under control somewhat. "Did you think about something before pulling the trigger? Did you have an epiphany? What made you go on living?" She almost sounded like she was pleading for an answer from the Lieutenant.

There was a long pause. He shrugs. "I threw up." He replied in a matter of fact tone.

Gertrud blinked, not expecting the answer she was given. "You... threw up?"

"Pretty much." He chuckled, took one last drink and set down the empty glass. He closes his eyes and then opens them. "I'm thinking the drink is starting to kick in, it's got a bite to it." He cursed and then continued. "After that, there's little else to talk about: I had to follow a trail of body's that Sparks and Washington left behind, get some closure from my dad, may the bastard rot in peace... track those two yanks down, get information from them, kill them both, fake my own death, head back to Mexico and take out the fat man himself. Apparently Shepherd got wind of my handy work and because of that I found myself in the 141. Only good thing that damned yank did for me in my opinion. And the rest they say is history."

The young Karlslander is silent, taking her drink and rolling it around in her glass, her lower lip was trembling. The story was not what she had expected: it was tragic. It was ugly. And was more horrific then she could imagine. It was then at this moment that she realized just how dark a path the Lieutenant walked. His pain, his suffering, his burden... in neither her world nor his could she imagine that someone could suffer in such a way and for so long. It was then that she had begun to pity the Lieutenant. Looking back at her life... it all seemed terribly weak in comparison... inconsequential.

"I can see now: you carry a soldier's burden. The greatest of any solider I have ever known." She murmured, then drank the Jaggermiester in one go. She suddenly got dizzy and shook her head. She rubbed her forehead and looked at the Task Force Lieutenant while wearing a guilty look. "What you've been through... makes my problems seem trivial in comparison. I really am a fool... how could I forget myself over my current or past problems when you had to go through such a terrible... such a horrible-"

"Trudy." Ghost reached his hand out and gently grasped the tender hand of the young witch. "The trials, hard times and other shit you had to go through left no less of an impact on you. Y'Can't compare my baggage with yours or anyone else's for that matter. What you went through matters as much as the stuff I went through. I won't belittle your suffering or problems. From where I stand... or sit as the case may be, you have every bloody right to feel the way you do about them." He looks at her with calm intensity, trying to give her peace of mind. "Everyone suffers from hard times, Barkhorn, it's only a question of how we choose to react to it. How we let it shape us." After a pause he chuckles reluctantly. "Shit, I'm starting to sound like Scope..."

Gertrud looks at the Lieutenant, her eyes transfixed on his face. "Thank you... Simon...I..." She hesitates. She felt overwhelmed by the Lieutenants life story, but to some degree she felt a strange feeling of relief. Now she could see the kind of man Simon was, and how big a burden he carried. And most importantly: she saw how strong in body, mind and spirit the Lieutenant was. He faced death in impossible situations many times, he was captured, tortured, betrayed, wounded even standing upon the brink of death as many times as she has, perhaps even more, and yet he pressed on despite all this. An unexplainable feeling began to awaken deep inside her, something towards this kindred spirit, this fellow warrior in uniform.

As young Barkhorn's gaze rested upon him, Ghost found a sudden change in her. It didn't seem bad, but it was a strange change. The fact that that she called Ghost by his first name had surprised him on top of that. A sudden stirring was caught just out of the corner of their eyes, they see that the trio is shifting and groaning; the drunken members of Inner Circle awaken and in a drunken stupor proceed to leave the clubs outdoor dining area.

"They're leaving." Gertrud stated.

Ghost hurriedly fishes through his wallet and leaves money for the alcohol on the table. "So are we. Better get in gear then."

* * *

><p>The restaurant was a quaint little set up. The service was pretty good and the food was great in fact. The location did leave something to be desired however. Wasn't the best place to get many patrons, but Roach was distracted by the Agadashi Tofu sitting in front of him to think too much into how the restaurant owners could make extra cash. Yuna had just put away a bowl of miso, a Chicken Terriaki Donbori, two bowls of rice and was currently working on her third. She loved the stuff. Japanese White Rice was a light, healthy grain type dish that Yuna would covet amongst any and all foods, having been raised on Japanese meals in her early child hood. There had been a few occasions where she took a bowl of rice into the field on long missions, preferring it over the MRE's and other military issue food that was filled with far too many preservatives for her liking. Of course that wasn't to say she would turn such food down if it was all she had, but it was something she preferred to have with her if she could help it. And a little Teryaki sauce never hurt the flavour either.<p>

Biting into the Agadashi Tofu Roach's taste buds were hit with a strong taste of fried batter, tofu, green onion and the rich tasting soy based sauce the tofu was resting in. There was something about Japanese cooking he could appreciate, if it was cooked properly then it was often the healthiest to eat. Most Japanese dinners were cooked using water and soy sauce instead of greasy oils, so the food often tasted light.

"That tastes pretty good."

Yuna nodded as she continued scarfing down rice. "I know right? Whoever the cook is in this place they really know how to prepare a meal. The rice is pretty good."

Roach smiles and takes another bite, his face lighting up again as he continued eating. "Man, I think it's getting better with each bite." Roach enjoyed Yuna's company. Something felt right when he was with her, something that was a level he couldn't quite explain. He could hardly remember what his life was like before the two of them crossed paths.

Yuna finishes the bowl of rice, looking content in her meal. "Ah, that's all I can eat. Anymore and I'll end up exploding." She looks over to Roach as he finishes his meal. "Feeling full yet?" she asks.

"Hell yeah. It's pretty good stuff. I'd definitely get some more of this if I had room enough for it." He has rueful look on his face as he remembers his time at the 501st, including the food he ate. "All the same, Yoshika would have put this place to shame. If she wasn't so dead set on bring a doctor, I know she would have made an excellent chef. "

Yuna chortled. "Oh, is some lucky girl winning you over by getting through to your stomach. I'm jealous."

Roach shook his head. "Oh, no way. She's way, way, WAY too young for me."

Roach's response suddenly clicked in Yuna's mind, soon realizing who he was talking about. "You were talking about one of the girls from the world Barkhorn was from, aren't you?"

"Yeah, they were a good bunch of kids, and they were pretty brave too. I had a taste of the kind of war they had to fight in myself. It's nothing like our war. A lot more stressful and way too dangerous. I mean, yeah, what we do is dangerous enough, but the war in Gertruds world is like a whole other level."

Yuna took a slow drink of her green tea and exhaled. "I don't know if I can imagine what it was like or not... but I can sense from the sound of your voice how... alien a war like that must have been like. No pun intended."

Roach was impressed with how intuitive Yuna was in both her work and her interactions with other people. He liked it. Things that would need to be spelled out by most people were quickly picked up by her and she was the most open minded person he had ever met in his life. She was a unique individual, and a skilled combat operator. And whenever he found himself stumbling through things or left wondering where he stood in life, it was Yuna's outlook and understanding that help grounded him.

"I sure missed it here. It may have been a week but it felt like it was longer. I don't know, maybe its interdimensional jet lag or something. At least I'm back to fighting people now." Roach realized what he just said and immediately felt guilty. "Crap, that's a terrible thing to be thankful for. Sorry."

"It's okay, I get what you mean when you say that. Judging from what you and Ghost told us about that world Barkhorn is from, I can see why you feel that way."

Roach ponders something in his mind as Yuna went back to drinking her tea. Call sign Scope, one of the best snipers in the 141 and certainly one in a million. When Roach was just another FNG freshly picked for the chance to be a member of elite military operators he threw himself at the challenge. He was a raw trooper and he latched onto Ghost when both men were sent off to see if they could make the cut, the Lieutenant became a mentor and battle buddy. Captain MacTavish was the father figure, Price was like a Grandfather, and the other guys were like brothers and best friends. But what was Scope to the Sergeant of the 141? Thinking about his fellow Sergeant made him recall the day the two met.

* * *

><p><em>Roach was exhausted and his muscles were burning. Eighth straight run through the pit and his time was barley shaved off by as much as a second. Plus, two civilian targets were shot on two of his runs so he was docked points and penalized with extra time. He thought his days in the SAS were tougher then hell, but this Task Force made it look like a picnic. Taking the time he was given a half hour ago to catch his breath he was drinking as much water as he could get a hold of. Firebase Phoenix was hotter than an oven and he was sure that if it weren't for his BDU and Balaclava he'd be getting a nasty sunburn. Unfortunately full combat gear had most soldiers roasting in their uniforms so it was a wash either way, as Roach would attest. From his understanding this base was one of the few that the 141 often frequented to train, or in this case cross train. It's been a month now and already there was going to be a mission coming up in another month. As Roach rested upon the crate he wondered just how he was going to cut it out here with this Task Force.<em>

_"Still trying to get over that mess you ran Roach? A little rest will do some good before giving her another go."_

_Roach looks up having heard the voice of Captain MacTavish and sees Ghost, MacTavish and Price approaching, Ghost still had his M4A1 in hand and looking rather refreshed despite his eight runs through the pit. Soap had a look of amusement written on him, while Price was as stoic as ever. He knows that compared to the other operators he's ranking somewhere below average in his training. Roach nervously straightens his back as he responds._

_"S-sorry sir. I know I've been off but I can improve once I get the hang of this sir."_

_"Better be quick at it then, you head out on a mission in this shape and you'll be going home in a pine box..SAS boy's aren't supposed to be bloody moppets." Ghost states flatly._

_MacTavish turns to Ghost. "Easy Lieutenant, he's may have a ways to go, but he wouldn't be here if he didn't have the talent to get in on the list to begin with."_

_Price study's the Sergeant, his grizzled features looking at the man from head to toe. "He may have talent but it needs refining. What this boy needs is a mentor."_

_Soap raises an eyebrow. "Ya think so Price? Have you gotten anyone in mind?"_

_"As a matter of fact son, I think I do." Price looks over to Ghost and MacTavish follows his gaze, Ghost seems baffled as old man Price and Captain McTavish make eye contact with him. He then points at himself questioningly. _

_"Ya mean you're talking about me?" he asked._

_Price's gaze narrowed. "You got a problem with that Ghost?" he inquired firmly._

_After a brief pause Ghost shrugs. "No sir, just surprised is all."_

_"Well you're a top notch operator and you hold a damn good time in the pit, so I'm thinking you both team up and you help Roach out through the training. Maybe some of the experience you've built up will rub off on the lad."_

_"I'll try sir." Ghost turns to Roach and extends his hand. "Looks I've got my work cut out for me." _

_Roach excitedly shakes the older man's hand. He was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he reasoned that maybe guidance from an experienced warrior would help him in his training. "I'll do my best to learn from you Lieutenant."_

_"We're partners mate, ya don't need all the formalities for Christ sake. Just call me Ghost. How about we hit the pit one more time, improve that time of yours?"_

_"R-right, sounds like a good place to start."_

_Price stops both men before they can head off to run the pit. "Before you do I've got a bit of a job for you two lads. We're going to be having an FNG shipping in any moment now and I'd like it if you two can serve as the welcome wagon."_

_Ghost rolls his eyes as a sigh escapes him. Despite this display of annoyance he soon became resigned in this tasking and looks to the older Captain questioningly. "So who is this moppet that we're supposed to meet?" _

_"A Ranger. Some yank Sergeant by the name of Kotoro from the 3rd Ranger Battalion. Apparently higher ups liked what this Sergeant was capable of during a few tours in, Iraq, Iran and Afghanistan so I'm thinking that you two can roll out the welcome mat for them. They will be arriving at the front gate any minute now, so be sure to greet em, show them around and help make them feel welcome. What do ya lads say?"_

_"A bloody yank for a new squad member huh?" Ghost seems to contemplate his decision for a moment. "Alright, may as well get this out of the way then." he sighs. He turns to Roach. "Well, let's get to it then mate."_

_Roach nods."Right."_

_As they leave Roach can hear both Captains starting to talk about something though he can't make out what the conversation entails. Leaving both of the older men to their conversation Ghost and Roach pass troops on base who are either doing PT, repairing and maintaining vehicles and weapon systems or otherwise on their down time. As the two British men approach the base front gate they notice an up-armored bus rolling into the compound. Buses in the middle east often had to be provided with armour and bullet proofed windows to protect the occupants inside from enemy attacks and roadside bombs. In Israel even civilian buses needed to be up armoured due to potential dangers and turbulence in the region, so it went without saying how intense engagements get out here with OpFor and several assorted middle eastern terrorists and religious fundamentalists waging their so called holy war . Once the doors open new personnel file out one by one with their gear, backpacks and duffle bags. After half the troops in the bus file out both Task Force operators notice an Asian looking man exit the bus carrying his gear and a jacket over his left shoulder, his chevrons denoting him as a Sergeant. Assuming him to be to be their new team member they approach him._

_"Hey bro, welcome to the 141." Roach extends his hand to the man in a welcoming gesture. He seemed baffled as he took Roaches hand._

_"Uh... I'm confused... isn't this where the boys from Hunter-2-1 are stationed at?"_

_Ghost cocks an eyebrow. "Actually yeah, that's right. You're not Sergeant Kotoro?"_

_The man shakes his head. "That ain't me man. I'm Yahama. Sorry." He lifts up his jacket to show his name tag. Roach seems to deflate over this case of mistaken identity. Ghost, wanting to have this little hiccup move right along, looked to the Ranger that wasn't their man._

_"Well, if you're not him, is there a Sergeant Kotoro on board during the trip you had? New body for our unit." _

_Yahama turned thoughtful, straining to recall wither or not he knew the person the two British men were looking for as the bus was getting steadily empty. "Let's see...I think there was someone with us named Kotoro, rode in the back the whole way." One man in the line taps on Yahama's shoulder and gestures over to the rest of the line up. "Listen, I'll see you guys around, gotta get squared away or my ass will be in a sling." The Ranger joins the rest of the men who are apparently men sent as turnover for the Ranger Regiment that the 141 was currently sharing the base with. The bus finally gets emptied out and thus far Ghost and Roach don't see their new Sergeant, or it seems so at first. After a few seconds of standing alongside the bus exchanging confused looks, they hear the sound of footsteps approaching the front of the bus. _

_Stepping into the door way and off the bus was a slim looking Ranger that both men had not expected. The Ranger had a military issue duffle and Eberlestock G4 Operator Backpack, which appeared to have had a rifle tucked into the built in rifle scabbard. The Ranger tilted up her helmet to get an unhindered view of the men that came to greet her, her eyes darted to their shoulder patches. Her face lit up in recognition. _

_"So you're boys from the Task Force huh? Very nice to meet you." She extended her hand _

_Roach's eyes widened in surprise and awkwardly he takes her hand. "S-sergeant Kotoro?" he asked hesitantly, his face looking a bit flushed._

_"That's me. I look forward to working with you guys." She seemed to have noticed the surprised looks of the two Task Force operators and chuckled heartily. "I'm probably not exactly what you guys were expecting, huh?"_

_Ghost studies the new Sergeant from head to toe. "Truthfully I didn't know what to expect, neither Roach here for that matter." Ghost looked over to Roach, finding him unusually silent and apparently looking more nervous than a rat in a vipers nest, the younger man casting his eyes to the ground. Ghost turns back to the new Sergeant. "Well Captain Price asked us to roll out the welcome mat for ya, show you around, help get you settled, that sort of thing. I'm Lieutenant Riley by the way , or you can call me Ghost, take your pick." _

_"Ghost huh? Are your call signs assigned to you or are they given for a specific reason?" _

_Roach stammers as he tries to give and answer. "W-w-well I got mine after a mission I ran before joining the Task Force... for the Lieutenant, I well... don't really know. He really didn't say to tell the truth." It seemed apparent that Roach was nervous around girls, Ghost started to wonder what high school life may have been like for the poor man. _

_Ghost looked to Kotoro questioningly and he gestured over to the mess tent. "You feeling hungry?" _

_Kotoro nodded. "After that long bus trip I'm starved for a bite. You guys got anything good?" _

_"Can't really say that, but it's edible."_

_Kotoro shrugged. "Guess beggars can't be choosers." As Ghost and Roach led the young women to the mess tent she looked over to the Lieutenant with a smile on her face. "Ghost right? Seems to be a fit for you."_

_"So what sort of skills are you bringing to the 141 miss Kotoro?" Ghost asked._

_Yuna turned thoughtful. "Let's see now: Scouting, Field Craft, and SOCP to name a few. I used to be a pretty good sniper back in my Ranger unit." _

_"Well you'll have competition then lass, Captain's Price and MacTavish, as well as Archer and Toad are also damn fine snipers, so you'll have to be pretty damn skilled or lucky to get into our unit as an operator with sniping as a primary skill."_

_Kotoro grinned. "Well aside from the mission that got me here, I can reach out and touch someone from 700yards with my SR-25, I can hit a target as small as a golf ball at 630yards and I've been told by my old Platoon Sergeant that I'm adaptable, so I guess there's that. To top it off I've been trained in the Ranger's Sniping Technique after joining Ranger school."_

_Roach looked to Kotoro questioningly. "Ranger Sniping Technique? You Ranger's have something like that? What's it like?"_

_The new operator tapped the side of her nose and winked. "Sorry, Ranger's trade secret."_

_Ghost looked at Sergeant Kotoro with mild scepticism. "You said back in your unit you were good. Just how good exactly?" he asked._

_"Good enough that my buddies back in my unit started calling me "Scope". Not the most inspired of nicknames but it stuck so in the end I got used to it. Kind of grew on me after a while."_

_"Scope huh? Well if nothing else it's straight forward." Once the trio got to the Mess Tent they collected their food trays for their lunch. "Well Scope you're going to be put through you're paces here and pushed to the limit. You think you can handle it?" _

_Kotoro laughed. "Ranger's lead the way Lieutenant." came her response._

_Ghost grinned, pleasantly surprised by Scope's enthusiasm . "Good to hear Sergeant." He gave Roach a playful nudge. "You might want to start taking notes Roach. You're going to need motivation like that if you plan on getting ahead."_

_Looking sheepish Roach nods. He knew that he was going to have his work cut out for him._

* * *

><p>The little trip down memory lane came to an abrupt end, the cell phone in Roaches pocket ringing and grabbing his attention. When he answers he hears Ghost's voice.<p>

"Oi, Roach. Be advised our mark has met up with some friends and they are on the move now. These blokes are so wasted that we managed to plant a bug on their car without them noticing. Get Toad and Scope ready to get picked up and have Toad bring the laptop so we can track those boys back home."

Roach was anticipating what was going to happen tonight. "Are we gearing up for a raid?"

"It's going to be a party mate, and a real wild party at that. And we're going to crash it, 141 style. "

"Right, we'll get prepped." Once the call ended he looked up to Scope. "They got a bug on our marks vehicle and are going to pick us up."

Scope finished her Green Tea and grins, looking excited at hearing the news. "Hooah, time to get our feet wet." She turns to one of the waitresses in a kimono and gestures to get her attention. "Check please."

* * *

><p>"Hijikata, are you sure you're feeling alright?"<p>

The petty officer turned to the major with a sheepish look. "Y-yeah, just a sore head is all. Those three really got the drop on me back there."

"I'm glad to hear your alright." Mio gave a hearty laugh. "They had the element of surprise on their side, can't fault them for that."

Minna sighs as the trio stand on the balcony overlooking the base grounds. From the amount of damage that the base had suffered during the attack in addition to the casualties sustained the 501st would appear to be very busy repairing the damage. The situation with Krupke had also come to a favourable resolution, so they were lucky that this was the worst of things for now. It's been a day and the army engineers were still working feverishly to get the base back up to operational capacity.

"We took a beating in that last battle. With this much damage the bases defences are severely compromised, the engineers are working non-stop to fix that problem. The MP's office and stockade took the heaviest brunt of the attack, theirs barley enough rubble left to fill a fox hole." She looks over to the Major with a grim look. "We lost a few men as well, Miyafuji managed to heal those with minor injuries with little difficulty but we may need to bring in new personnel to fill the roles of those we lost."

Hijikata sighs heavily. "It never gets easy, does it?"

"It never does." Minna replies solemnly. "Krupke finally decided to take his leave of our base, so that's one less headache to deal with at least." She turns to Sakamoto's right hand man questioningly. "Petty Officer, has there been any progress with those weapons that the Ranger's were kind enough to give to us?"

"The scientists and a few of the soldiers are studying them now mamm, though they had to read through most of the operators manuals first. I had a look through one of the manuals for one of the rifles and it seemed... complicated." Hijikata rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It looks like most of these weapons require meticulous maintenance and care to operate at peak efficacy. And they are still unfamiliar at the moment for us to operate with. Makes me wish one of the Ranger's could have stayed and taught us how to use them."

"Looks like we will have to rely on good old fashioned trial and error then. Keep me appraised of any progress."

"Yes mamm."

As Hijikata salutes the Wing Commander and leaves, Mio turns to Minna. "I'm going to return to my quarters and turn in for the night. I have to be well rested for my early morning training."

"Of course, you're dismissed Major."

Sakamoto saluted and left the balcony leaving Minna with her thoughts on the day's events. She felt drained. The base coming under attack, trying to send the Rangers home, dealing with Krupke and one of the girls MIA was putting a lot of pressure on the young wing commander. Officers always had to deal with the stressors of combat and dealing with military politics. But she and her wing were in uncharted territory now, another world in a war of its own was a new factor, and now the Neuroi had set their sights on this other reality. As her mind wanders Ursula's voice pipes up over the com.

"Mamm, I think I might have something that you might want to hear."

Minna looks out to the parade grounds, seeing the Karlsland inventor with some lab techs and equipment studying the anomaly. "What is it Ursula?" The Heartmann twin's silhouette turns to the either analysis equipment responsible for monitoring the new rune connecting to the other reality, after a moment of pause she speaks over the comm to Minna.

"I've had time to study the... what should I call this...Inter-Dimensional Transportation Rune? Argh... too much of a mouthful...maybe an acronym then? Well, at any rate I've found that the rune is maintaining a stable connection to the other reality. But it seems that something about it is different than past runes to the other world in question. I think that it may have to be due to the Neuroi manipulating it somehow."

"I see. Is there any idea as to how they managed to accomplish this and for what purpose?"

"I'm unsure as to the how at the moment mamm but I do have a few hypothesises as to the why."

"Would you care to share a few of them with me?"

"If you don't mind at all mamm."

"By all means, go ahead."

Ursula picks up a clipboard of data and reads through it, taking note of the formula and data currently recorded then continues speaking to the Wing Commander. "It's quite possible that the Neuroi are growing desperate. After liberating Gallia and beating back assaults in Romanga and perhaps the successes occurring in Africa it could be that the enemy hives are thinking about gaining more territory and establishing a means of increasing their numbers. At least that's the best I can think of..."

Minna felt an uneasy feeling creeping into her stomach at hearing this. "You're implying that the enemy is trying to find a means of increasing its garrisoned units so that they can overwhelm us with massive numbers and fire power."

Ursula sounds grim as she responds. "I think so mamm."

"Unfortunately I think I agree with that assessment, it was likely that the Neuroi that managed to breach the bases defences and traveled into the other reality were a sort of advance scouts sent to establish a beach head there. That's bad for us as well as the Rangers and Task Force." Minna exhaled and rubbed her head as a migraine soon begun to take hold. "I don't think the people in the other world would know how to defend themselves from a Neuroi attack, or what tactics to use against our enemy... save perhaps for Trudy... but we don't know where exactly the Neuroi are in their world, so the likely hood of Trudy destroying them before they can establish themselves a base of operations is small..." her voice trailed, afraid of the unfortunate implications of the Neuroi's infiltration.

"Wing Commander, I think there is another reason if I may confide..." Ursula hesitated in the second part of her hypothesis, it was something that she considered regarding the Neuroi's very nature.

Minna stroke her chin thoughtfully. "Go ahead."

Humanity knew little about the enigmatic aliens; the Neuroi. And the majority of it only cared about wiping out the invaders, while others wanted to adapt the enemy's weapons technology for their own purposes. But there was a handful, granted that was a very small handful, that wanted to unwrap the secrets of the race that mankind had waged war against. A very small few sought to find out what made the Neuroi tick... what this strange race's secrets were, what their biology and society were like. In truth little was gleamed, but the one thing that was made clear was that a Neuroi core was capable of utilizing and holding a great amount of energy and power. It wasn't any form of raw either or refined magic, it was something else. But many could see that this energy could be used as an alternate power source, something that was more accessible to many then magic. Ursula once spent time with a group of scientists and engineers that were tasked with such investigative studies, finding that the Neuroi Core holds such unique energy. But recalling how the men of the other world explained of their home that magic and witches didn't exist, nor did they make contact with any alien life like the Neuroi, she wondered why the enigmatic enemies of mankind were manipulating these interdimensional runes. She had a thought about their reasons... perhaps there was more to their necessity besides a strategic need...

"I once worked for a short time with a science team charged with studies of the Neuroi themselves mamm, it's something few people want to come out as common knowledge but all the same, I think current events require turning attention to it: It's a known fact that the Core of a Neuroi contains great power, this fact being why many are trying to weaponize it against our enemy in this war. But Minna, these Core's... they say that a core is the Heart of a Neuroi. That destroying it destroys the Neuroi it belongs to... but we discovered that... after taking time to extrapolate what we have learned from data recovered from the Warlock project, that Neuroi are living energy. Living energy, contained in a gem core and housed in a durable, regenerating metallic hide."

Minna blinked, surprised at hearing this information that she wasn't made aware of before, but she would have reflect on it another time, for now she could sense that Ursula had more to say. "Is this information leading up to a point, Ursula?" She asked questioningly.

"Perhaps the reason they needed to make physical contact with a location with a tear in space and time is that they need a way of adapting to the other worlds laws of physics. The rune... it changed from blue, to red and finally to white, possibly physically showing the change at the event horizon connecting our worlds together. The other world has no magic, so the energy that the Neuroi are made up of might not exist in that world either... I don't know if that's really the case but if so then it makes sense as to why the Neuroi I saw first had to manipulate the existing transport rune. The first time was to open up an existing tear, I think now they needed to adapt to the unknown before advancing into it."

A troubled look flooded Minna's face. It was likely just guesses or theory's, but if such hypothesis turned out to be true then that meant that this base was now the most valuable base in their entire world. And she knew that the enemy would also know this, which means that the front the 501st had fought on before was now literally just outside their window. Though she tried to hide it, her voice sounded shaken. "If that's true... then it would be typical... of the Neuroi's very M-O. They grow and adapt... they just get stronger over time... I guess we have been too strong for them, so they needed to adapt to us. Find a way of defeating us. This was probably their solution." She sighed heavily. "It seems that the Tame Witches may need to be officially activated and charged with the defence of the base and this Rune on our grounds, have them support us in our operations. Unless we do that then the 501st will be over tasked as it is."

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling now?"<p>

Yoshika continued to pump healing magic into Darya's stump as Jenna continued to watch nervously. The young Fuso girl felt guilty that she wasn't able to finish the healing that Darya needed, so she wanted to complete what she had left unfinished. What Sergeant Foley had told her before left a great impact on her, taking the Ranger's words to heart. Tonight she opted to repair the damaged nerves that she missed in Darya's leg, the on and off pain plaguing the young girl for a while now, until tonight that is. It was taking awhile but the treatment seemed to be succeeding. The young reserve witch from Orussia let out a soft sigh as the occasional, numb throbbing slowly drifted away. She looked to the Fuso girl and smiled softly.

"It feels better..."

"That's good, any pain that was left from before should be gone now. You'll just need time to rest so you can get your strength back, just take it easy in the meantime."

Darya nodded and leaned back into her bed to relax, looking up to Jenna with a loving look in her eyes. Jenna looked overwhelmed as she turned to Yoshika. "Thank you for helping her. I don't know how to repay you for healing the pain she was feeling."

Yoshika smiled. "It's okay, you don't have to repay me at all. I just glad I could help her."

The Sergeant Major was awe struck by this act of kindness, and amazed at the younger girls modesty. "You're a good person, Sergeant Miyafuji." Jenna's eye's traveled to Darya, as a gentle look filled the Sergeant Major's face. The older Liberion girl took the younger Orussian girl's hand... Yoshika could sense a particular atmosphere in the post op and giggled happily.

"You two have a good night." Silently without another word, she left the room so the two girls will have some time alone together. She continued down the hall back to the room she and Lynnette shared, glad she was able to help someone in need. Tomorrow would be another day.

* * *

><p>In the mess that enveloped one side of the room, Erica lay on the floor next to her bed, wide awake. It was deathly silent in her room. By now Trudy would have chastised or berated Heartman for the state of her side of the room. An annoyance to be sure, something Heartman cared very little about, but it was a familiar constant. It was strange... not hearing Trudy's voice, hearing that frustrated tone of her best friend trying to make the talented but lazy ace into something better then a slothful pig in terms of her private life. Erica started to miss the older girls company. Never before had she been separated from Gertrud for this long. Despite the cramped mess around her bed, the room Erica was laying in felt so empty...<p>

She turned and looked to the side of the room that was a glaring contrast: clean, orderly, well maintained. Only now there was one element that was out of place. Something that completed the overall balance of the room. Or rather, some_one_. The young Karlslander looked to the empty bed that rested on the other side of the "Siegfried line". It felt painful looking at it and seeing it empty. Despite the words of reassurance she was given, she couldn't help but feel fear for the safety of her friend. She wondered what she could say to Chris about what had happened. For the first time in her life, Erica felt lost.

"Trudy." She rolled onto her back and looked up to the ceiling. _Will you be okay Trude? Are you... going to come back? I can...I can clean my side of the room if it will make everything better._ A regretful, embittered feeling filled her hert. _Just come back home Trudy...I hate to admit it... but I miss those speeches of yours...please come back home...please..._ The young Karlslander shielded her head with her arm she struggled to find rest. It was a long time that the laidback ace felt so unhappy. "Trudy..."

Tonight was going to be a sleepless night.

* * *

><p>There is an art to act of shadowing your opponents. To follow from afar while avoiding your marks attention. It was a skill that required stealth, patience and a calm, cool, level head. One cannot be rash. Bold actions would give you away and carelessness could mean the difference in success or failure in your mission. Ghost, thankfully, had the knowledge and skill required to shadow the car in front of him from a distance. It was a few hours of cautious following. Toad had the laptop open on his lap, having to use it a few times to help guide the Lieutenant to find the beat up old sedan that sometimes got lost among the vast sea of traffic. The bug that Ghost and Gertrud had planted on the car was proving to be a good move. For the most part, the van that the Task Force squad had sat in was mostly quiet save for the drone of the engine.<p>

While they were still following their target, it gave Scope an opportunity to help Gertrud meditate a little more. The young witch was hesitant but finally accepted the older woman's help. Gertrud was trying to calmly focus on meditating with the help of a Quartz crystal that Scope always kept in a pocket on her person. It was explained that a Quartz crystal had a particular electromagnetic resonance that promoted the recharge of spiritual energy and helped in calming the mind. While she was skeptical at first, Trudy found that the small piece of Quartz had some subtle effect on her... she wasn't sure what it was but she felt that maybe it was helping, if only a little bit. When this subtle change seemed to reach its peak, she exhaled and returned the Quartz to Scope.

"Here, you can have this back."

"Did you feel any improvement?"

"I think so... I can't really be sure though."

"Truth be told things like this take time." Scope chuckled. "To be honest it took me eleven years of meditating for me to reach an awakening."

Toad scoffed. "Yeah, whatever. Awakenings and Healing Crystals and all that crunchy granola hippy shit."

Scope shook her head while wearing a clear frown. "It's Zen Buddhism Toad. Do I look like I'm wearing sandals and Tie-dye t-shirts or listen to psychedelic rock? I swear, the term "Hippy" has lost all meaning. People just use that word to dismiss things and people who are different."

Roach sighs. "Forget him Scope, he's just closed minded."

"Most people are." Scope agrees.

Roach then smiles. "This stuff seems to work for me at least, makes me feel more calm and recharged in body and mind. That's proof enough for me that it's legit."

"All the same, I'm putting my faith in Jesus and the Corps." Toad puts in.

Toad, currently the only other American in the squad, was a Marine Corps sniper before applying for a position in Task Force 141. Growing up he came from a deeply religious Christian Family. While mostly forward thinking, there were some things, particular subjects, that he and his family often hit a ceiling with. Funnily enough, because of the fact he was the youngest sibling in his family and because of the melting pot of friends he had growing up, he was relatively open minded compared to the rest of his family, but some of the things that Scope had talked about were, in truth, beyond his understanding. And sometimes he made it known that some of the things she had to say he didn't agree with. He grew up believing god was always on his side and that in the Corps and Task Force that he was striking down evil from afar. Nothing would ever destroy that, at least in his mind. However, Gertrud's presence did, ironically enough, challenge and shaken some of the dogma and scripture that he took as unshakable and unquestionable fact. When he first heard that Gertrud was a witch, the logical Marine in him first dismissed this as bullshit, but when this fact was confirmed, the religious man in him soon became fearful of her; clearly thinking she was some black magic using devil worshipper out to spread evil. But hearing that she was in fact a protector, savoir and a soldier in her world, he was baffled a little... the idea he had in his mind was completely off the mark. Even now he still struggled to even accept the new state of reality and the young women who was now a "de-facto" member of the 141, if only at the moment. For now he settled on categorizing her as... "weird".

"Alright, eye's on you lot, save all that nonsense for the barracks." Ghost spoke firmly, silencing any further idle chatter. "Looks like our lads are pulling off here." Ghost parks the van a block away as the Sedan ahead of the comes to a halt next to what seemed to be a series of storage warehouses and a main office building about two stories tall. The sedan rolled through the front gate and towards one of the buildings, granted the driver of the car was a little wobbly during the entire drive. Ghost dims the headlights and manoeuvre's the van towards the very rear of the compound to avoid drawing any attention to the Task Force. Nearing the rear end of the warehousing area is a long alley with an equally tall fence. Turning down the alleyway, Ghost continues down a few meters then stops and cuts the engine. "Ready up everyone, we're on the clock."

Everyone dismounts the van and gets their gear, weapons and ammo ready. Ghost and Roach have geared up in all black BDU's and Yuna wore a black hoodie, balaclava and ATAC pants while everyone else wore Urban Digital BDU's. Every weapon in their arsenal was equipped with silencers and subsonic rounds. Ghost starts giving everyone their tasks for the operation.

"Alright, we're going to get this mission underway. Keep it silent, keep it tight, avoid tripping alarms or drawing attention to yourself. Scope, once we get inside provide over watch on the compound, understood?"

" I'll scope out a vantage point once we get in."

"Are we weapons free on this op?" Roach asks.

Ghost adjusts his sunglasses. "Engage only if you're sure you're about to be compromised. If we drop too many too quickly then they may think something's up and we end up alerting them to our presence. Use some discretion on this one, is that clear?"

"Clear as crystal."

With that, Ghost leads the squad to the fence surrounding the compound. As everyone stacks up Toad produces a search mirror, a small mirror on an extending pole used for surveillance around corners. After making a clean sweep, he gives the "all clear" signal. Both he and Roach get into position to help the others vault over the fence, giving them a boost and then getting helped up themselves and over the fence. Once on the grounds of the parameter, Ghost leads the squad between a few buildings and through passageways, checking each building as they pass. One of the taller buildings is happened upon while conducting their search, looking upwards Ghost can see the barrel of a rifle protruding from the ledge of the roof and at rest. A sniper was directly above them, but hadn't noticed them. Ghost Silently gestures for Scope to clear out the sniper and set up an over watch position, to which she complies, giving a curt nod and slipping into the building and silently advancing up the stairs, the SCAR-L in her grasp at the ready. As Gertrud and the men continue forward for a minute, Scope whispers into her comm.

"Sniper is neutralized and the building is clear. I've got overwatch and have eye's on. You're path is clear so far." Scope was likely now starring through the crosshairs of her SR-25, a highly accurate rifle that she used back in her career as a Ranger, the weapon was perfect for medium to long-range urban engagements and was actually over qualified for this particular field of battle.

"Copy that, keep us appraised of anything we don't see."

"Gladly, I'll give you a heads up if trouble comes you're way.""

"We're moving to the next building, the large one direct front of us and to our left, you see anything we should know about?"

"Let's see... I count about fifteen plus personnel inside: Rifles, SMG's and three shot gunners on the second floor, don't have good vantage on the first floor though. You might want to skirt past this one."

"Is our man inside?"

"If he is he isn't on the second floor."

Ghost scans his surroundings while on the move and can see that there were a good amount of crates and vehicles to use for cover. The building itself seemed to be a large office complex attached to a warehouse of some kind. "We'll recon the first floor, but we better not kick the hornets' nest if we don't have to. Everyone move quietly, got to make sure our guy isn't inside before we move on."

Before they can however, Scope gives a warning. "Not yet! Hold!"

Before Ghost has the chance to lead them forward, a UAZ drives around the corner and into the confined roadway the Task Force operators had taken cover in. Two of the four occupants inside dismount and start walking a patrol on foot, while the Driver and front passenger talk to each other inside the vehicle and occasionally sharing a cigarette.

"Bloody rotten timing dude." Roach murmurs quietly.

"Damn, that could have gotten messy." Toad hisses under his breath. "You could have cut that a little sooner, why the last second warning?"

"Because that's the least of your problems guys. A crapload of box trucks just rolled into the compound. Six, maybe seven of them and a black van with tinted windows." Scope replied. "The hell are they up to?"

The Lieutenant was similarly puzzled by this. Cargo trucks would indicate that the enemy was planning on moving something. The question then is, what exactly were they moving? Ghost gestures at the building and gives his orders. "Toad, take the Left flank of the building and recon the rooms and surrounding buildings, Roach, do the same on the right. Gertrud and I will keep you both covered as you move up. Scope, keep your eyes on and keep us appraised."

* * *

><p>Eila was sitting silently in a chair in the room she shared with Sanya. The Orussian night witch was already patrolling her designated airspace, leaving Eila alone in their shared living quarters. Something was troubling the Suomus girl deeply. Her hair was disheveled, her skin was clammy, her eyes fixed on the tarot cards with a wild look and her hands moving as if they were on fire. For a few days now she was plagued by troubling visions, frightening images of war in both her world and the other world that seemed to get more and more frequent. Two hours ago she decided to consult her Tarot cards, see if she could gleam any answers from them. Nine cards were laying in a suit on the table. But tonight her answers were grim. The cards in the suite were in places in the suit that had all indicated ill omens but there were three that stood out the most: The Devil; a card signifying bondage to an idea or belief which is preventing a person from growing or being healthy, The Tower, which currently was foretelling catastrophe and ruin; often times it was an ominous card, and Ultimately the Death Card; signifying inescapable change and ending of a cycle. That by itself would have been not given much thought, but the fact that for the past two hours, every time she shuffled the cards and started a new suit... the Exact. Same. Cards. Would be revealed. Never before had Eila experience a reading that was so certain, so final, so...dire. A frightened whine escaped her as she made her 23rd reading. She was trying to deny what the cards were telling her, trying to convince herself that it was some sort of mistake. But only now she was starting to realize that she was probably trying to fool herself. Didn't mean she wouldn't try again anyways.<p>

The cards lay face down. With a trembling hand she overturned the first card. It was the same as the last 22 times. Then she over turned the second... then the third... then the fourth... and then the next... and the next... all the same as before...

Desperate cries of horror and fear escaped from the girl as she gazed wide eyed and tearfully at the cards as she overturned them_. They are all the same cards. THEY ARE ALL THE SAME DAMN CARDS! WHY?! WHY?!_ Suddenly she felt something strike her squarely in the forehead... something intangible. Something that seemed frustrated with her, as if the higher powers that be were starting to tire of her trying to delude herself from the knowledge they were trying to impart to her.

* * *

><p><em>She saw another vision that came violently. Graphic scenes of war. Men felling each other in a battle-scarred city with smoke billowing and fires burning. It would have been bad enough, she had already felt gutted watching the acts of violence men committed against each other in the other world that had gone on for a few days now, but the sky darkened, the two armies of men stopping to look up at the heavens that were purged of all light. Suddenly a Neuroi hive materialized, along with Neuroi air and ground units. A sudden pink flash of a Neuroi laser weapon shot forth and split both armies in half, men caught in the blast disappear in flash of light as the survivors bleated fearfully. Then rune's appeared and enveloped a few platoons of men on either side. Eila then saw her world, and the men surrounded in light from before appearing in her world, looking around in frightened confusion, but then realizing their enemy was still in front of them...they resumed engaging them. A spattering of blood filled Eila's vision, the cry of a child echoing from somewhere, but from where she couldn't tell. A yellow cloud then enveloped everything around her and consumed her. While in the cloud Eila felt as though she were suffocating.<em>

_The voice of a Gallian man rang out in urgency over a radio channel, sounding as if muffled from behind a mask as she saw people who seemed to be suffocating in the cloud, both civilians and soldiers. " __This is GIGN HQ. My men are dead or dying!" The voice coughs harshly and heavily, , one shadowed figure in the cloud seemed to be looking into a monitor's screen, his voice continuing in horrified realization. "I've been exposed!"_

_Once the yellow cloud and the dying people within it dissipates the next thing she knows she finds herself in a meeting room, with a group of men sitting around a table. It seemed to be made up of members of the joint war cabinet and other high ranking officers. She see's Krupke speaking to them, a conversation between him and another man going back and forth. One of the men, a General, addresses him. _

_"Will we reach our window in time? Unless we can ensure Romanga's safety from the enemy then we will have to make a... difficult choice..."_

_"I assure you that not only are we going to meet our schedule, we will also have a victory in our hands thanks to this new asset."_

_A darkened ship is seen in the background, sitting tall and imposing. Something seemed wrong with this ship. She couldn't make out what ship it was or what nation it was from, but shadow overtakes it as the location changes again. She then found herself in an a dark, underground bunker. Men from the other world were standing with rifles in their grasp, inspecting the surrounding quarters, which was filled with familiar scorch marks and the odd body here and there, missing limbs or having been bisected. A man in a black suit, with one eye green, the other blue; was mumbling thoughtfully in what seemed to be Orussian, a man in spectacles and looking rather meek in stature carried some sort of radio equipment on his person, turning dials as static garbled and whistled. The man in the suit stroked his chin, then quickly his mouth grew into an icy, ominous smirk. He approaches something obscured in darkness, it could have been a vehicle... but of what she couldn't be sure, as he spoke in accented Brittanish. _

_"I don't know exactly what this is comrades... but perhaps we can find a use for this in our cause. Something like this... could be just the weapon we need..." A familiar shriek is heard and the man and the men behind him leapt back, the soldiers raising their weapons and the man raising a large pistol, while the man with the radio equipment bleated. The thing before them had a single point that began glowing an angry red. _

_The Suited Orussian looks to the cowering man in glasses questioningly. "Have you set the transmitting frequency?"_

_The man in glasses replied shakily. "I-I think so..." The other man gives a stern, threatening look. "I-I-I mean I've got it, it's ready." He corrected fearfully. _

_"Good." The man in the suit sneered, adjusted his headset radio and motioned to a man carrying some sort of rocket launcher to ready his weapon and addressed the entity."If you are in possession of any sort of intelligence then you will listen or I will give the order to destroy you." The entity creped forward and made a low growl, the man with the anti-tank rocket levelling his weapon at the entity. "If you wish to survive... then you will help me destroy our enemy's. I'm certain if they know of your existence they would not hesitate to destroy you." The grin that formed on the man's face frightened Eila, shaking her to her very core... the entity; it almost seemed to squirm uncomfortably. "Perhaps if you destroy my enemies... I can destroy yours? We can show them our true power." The entity sat silently, almost as if contemplating the Orussian's offer. The suited man raised his hand in a welcoming gesture. "Bread for bread... blood for blood...the enemy will crumble before us and our righteous cause..." _

_The room faded to black, after a moment of empty nothingness two Earths materialized, spinning steadily through space. The Earth on the left had gunfire and explosions ringing out. The perfect globe becoming scarred by craters and getting chocked in smoke and Europe being enveloped by the sickly yellow cloud of death. A large missile like projectile rounded the edge of the planet from one land mass and came back down on a continent that sat upon the other side of the ocean, erupting into a mushroom cloud and shockwave. The Earth on the right had the flashes of pink/red light burning scars into the landscape, and the clouds turning black, soon followed by more gunfire and laser fire that grew more and more tense, lighting up the sky like lightning. From both came the hellish sounds of combat, the shouts, screams and cries of people echoing in a chaotic cacophony of voices, and the screeching of the dreaded Neuroi which made the cries of the people grow louder in fear. The two Earths then slowly started to merge as a sudden fire burned across them both. They then became one Earth: A cratered, burned, desolate, dead globe spinning slowly through space, with their now only being silence..._

* * *

><p>Eila was holding her head, screaming uncontrollably in horror. Tears were streaming down her face in an endless torrent. In her hysteria she overturned the table that had the tarot cards resting on it. The table clanged against the floor and the chair she was in was overturned as she shot up from her seat. Cards flew everywhere, the lamp resting on the table broke after hitting the floor. She scrambled to the far corner of the room and curled up into a ball, rocking back and forth. The vision she just had was so overwhelming. It was apocalyptic. Frightened sobs kept escaping her as she sat fearfully in the far corner. So many horrible things... a vision that showed only a hopeless future was soul crushing. She sat in the corner of the room for an hour numbly... was everything the 501st fighting for all for naught? Was everything they were trying to protect going to be lost anyway? The thought of loosing Sanya was too much for her to even think about. Nothing but death... the death of everyone and everything...<p>

Should she give up? The second that thought came to mind she immediately banished it. If losing everything meant losing Sanya too, then she was going to fight against this! But how? What could she do to stop the end of both her world and the other world? She could sense that the fates of both worlds were now intertwined, if one was going to be doomed, the other would soon follow. Eila looked to the cards laying on the floor next to the overturned table. Slowly she crawled over to a pile of face down cards, her hand hovered over them for a moment when she grabbed one of them, all the while asking: _How can I stop this from happening?_ Instantly, she overturned the card in her grasp, but before she could see what it was, she had another vision.

* * *

><p><em>The single scorched globe was still spinning slowly through space. Slowly, it started to divide into two, a transparent pocket watch rose up from the blackness of space, it's hands turning backwards as the two Earths started to change back to the moment when the fires began to burn across them both. The Earths and the watch froze in limbo, the two Earths stuck between being half unmarred, perfect, beautiful, with the other side of the globes desolate, damaged and in ruin, smack dab between them lay the raging walls of fire. An old, grizzled Britanish voice quietly spoke to Eila. "<em>_The life you knew before is gone. How far will you go, to protect what you believe in... to protect what you care for?"_

_Eila looked around, trying to find the person who's voice was speaking to her. She couldn't find this person, but finally she answered. "I made a promise! I promised I'd protect Sanya! I want to save my world and my people too; It's my duty as a witch! And Sanya...Sanya gives me the strength to carry out that duty! I..." she hesitated, she had always been hesitant in admitting the feeling in her heart. But now.. she could feel the weight of two worlds hanging on her answer. She had to come clean... to both this person speaking to her as well as herself. "I LOVE SANYA WITH ALL MY HEART! I WILL GO AS FAR AS I HAVE TO GO TO PROTECT HER!"_

_A shadowed, old, bearded figure in a boonie hat materialized, he stood there for a minute, looking thoughtful of this response, then nodded approvingly. There was a sudden crack as everything seemed to be viewed through a pane of glass... then the glass shattered into a million pieces. _

_The shadowed figure then spoke again.__ "The life you knew before is gone...and things will get all the more harder from here. But today, we will fight to bring it back... and make sure that we have a future to look forward to." The figure then tossed a rounded patch to Eila. She caught it and inspected it. To her surprise it was the same patch that Ghost and Roach wore on their uniforms; the Familiar skull and winged dagger over a spade and surrounded by a wreath . "You won't fight alone..." She looked up to the figure but he had disappeared. Eila sensed something behind her and wheeled around. She saw a human form Neuroi hovering before her. But it looked different...seemingly wearing gear that the Task Force operators wore. _

_Quite suddenly a flash of pink light took off a leg of the human form Neuroi, Eila turned to the direction the beam attack came from a saw an air unit type Neuroi fast approaching it's human formed counterpart. Before this Neuroi could strike the killing blow automatic gunfire rings out and shreds the approaching enemy. Eila can hear the engines of a Striker Unit draw close. What she hears next... she swears it was Captain Barkhorn's voice muttering something in Karlslanic... then can actually see her stop before the human form Neuroi, though she was partially covered in shadow and wearing a Task Force uniform and gear._

_Trudy looked down at the wounded alien before her with a stern, contemplative look, a large, strange machinegun held at rest in one hand. With annoyance she spoke."What the hell am I supposed to do with you?"_

* * *

><p>Eila found herself back in her room, the vision having just ended. She blinks and rises to her feet, but her knees feel weak. The card that once was in her hand had slipped out of her grasp and laying on the floor, facedown. Eila couldn't even think about sleep now. What she had seen in her visions required immediate attention. It was lights out, with the majority of the base personnel either asleep in their barracks or a few members of the guard detail working in shifts to stand watch. But she wasn't going to be able to find sleep for herself this night. She wanted for Sanya to be with her so she could tell the Orussian girl she cared so deeply for what was weighing so heavily on her heart and mind. After some rather uneasy thinking, she decides to wait for Sanya at the hanger, maybe grab a cup of coffee on the way there. The images in her mind were still fresh, and she had a feeling the most severe ones would haunt her in her dreams like the other visions had, even with her eyelids feeling so heavy. These nightmares of things soon to come was making her an insomniac simply put, they would not give her rest. Eila cursed and left the room... a night of no sleep and a large helping of caffeine, she knew that she will be paying for it in the morning.<p>

* * *

><p>With their tasks given the squad had split up with Ghost and Gertrud making their way to the side of the building in silence. As Toad disappears around the left side of the building, Roach inches his way up by bounding silently from cover to cover, being sure to do so when the two man patrol isn't looking. Ghost kept the younger man covered with his ACR. The arrival of these trucks in the compound raised some questions. Roach quickly but silently entered a building on the other side and started to sweep it. Once he was out of sight, Ghost silently crept up towards the crate that Roach was previously at and checked the building to his right, conducting a quick-scan. Lots of men inside but no sign of Codename Pike.<p>

"Ghost, it's Roach, you're going to have trouble heading you're way. Thiers's a guy heading towards a fire escape on the building to your right."

"Alright, take him quietly." He then adds quickly. "And be careful."

"I've got it."

Ghost's eyes dart towards the building in question and notices a man with a Kalashnikov midway through stepping through a window and onto the fire-escape, when suddenly Roach appears directly behind the man and quickly pulls him inside, both men disappearing into shadow and the sound of a brief scuffle. Shortly after Roach exhales over the comm.

"Rifleman neutralized, you're clear."

Ghost was impressed. "You're knife takedowns are getting better mate."

"Practice makes perfect, right?"

"True that. Scope, any news on those lorries? "

"They are heading towards the loading dock of the warehouse. The van stopped short about two buildings down from you're position-" Her voice stops suddenly, alarming both Ghost and Roach.

"Scope, status."

"Are you okay?" Roach asks worriedly.

Scope's reply is a low whisper. "I just heard something on the floor below..."

"Is you're position compromised?"

"Possibility. I'll have to sweep and clear again, you'll be without Overwatch for a minute give or take."

"Understood, re-secure you're Overwatch position." Ghost instructed.

After taking a moment to think things through, Ghost decides to continue forward, but the fact that the two man patrol was in the way was complicating things. He notices a few pieces of chipped concrete on the ground and is struck by a sudden idea to his problem despite how much of a cliché it was. _No way this will actually work. _Picking up the largest piece about the size of a small stone, he tosses it down a cross street, bouncing off the side of a building and against a garbage can, taking the attention of the men. One speaks to the other and moves towards the noise as the other man stayed put and observed. _Well I'll be damned, hard to believe they fell for that one._ With both men distracted and one of them now alone, Ghost creeps up to the man standing alone, combat knife drawn and plunges the blade deep into the back of the man's neck, severing his spinal column. Quickly he drags the body into a shadowed area behind one of the crates and moves across the street, into the door way of the next building.

He then updates Roach's orders. "Oi, Roach, check the next building over and scope it out."

"Roger, I'm on it."

Scope's voice is heard again. "Too damn close that time... two men were on the floor below my Overwatch position. I took care of them but I can't get a good bead on you guys from my position." A short pause later she continues. "Guy's I'm going to have to displace to a new vantage point, I think something's happening by the warehouse but I can't make out what's happening from my position."

Ghost grunts in acknowledgement. "Roger that, move quickly lass."

"Moving now."

Toad's voice then chirps up. "Hey guys I've got something."

"What do you have Toad?" Ghost asks.

"Intel out the wahzoo over here. Computers, some documents in files, thumb drives. Maps? Hang on here there's an airport photo over here."

This concerned Ghost a little bit. "An Airport? Are you sure?"

"You don't think they're going to pull another Zakhaev international massacre do you?" Toad asked worriedly. Hearing this, Roach is heard cursing over the comms.

Gertrud nearly keeled over in shock. "Another massacre!? We cannot allow that to happen!"

Scope however has doubts, which she speaks aloud to the rest of the Squad. "If they were planning another massacre then it would be counterproductive to their goals. If they do try one shortly after the attack on Zakhaev international that the US was blamed for and they conduct one shortly after the fact then everyone will think that it will be suspect, right? Besides, it's unwise to use the same tactics and strategies all the time, intelligent commanders develop new strategies and plans of attack."

The man that left to check out the noise was returning. He noticed that his buddy was missing and started looking around, whispering the man's name out. When he got close Ghost popped out from his hiding place and plunged his knife into the man's neck, dragging the man's lifeless body out of sight. Shortly after the kill Ghost had to agree with Scope's reasoning. Another airport attack would just draw attention to Makarov and his men. There had to be another reason that an airport would be involved now. "I'm inclined to agree with that. Scope, have you got a good vantage point yet?"

"Roger, guard tower to the North of the compound with a better vantage on things."

"Can you see what's happening?"

Thiers a long silence. "Looks like they are loading up weapons crates... and personnel from what I'm seeing."

"We should stop them before they can leave." Gertrud urges.

Ghost moves forward around the corner and towards the side of the next building. He can still see the two men in the truck smoking, one of them lighting up yet another cigarette, clearly feeling very secure and oblivious of the presence of the Task Force. "Easy Valkyrie, we still have time. They won't be able to go anywhere until they get their precious cargo loaded." He looks back to Trudy and motions her forward. She nods and sneaks over to Ghost's position though her advance wasn't exactly graceful. Finesse wasn't one of Gertrud's strong suits, her skills and abilities often relied on brute strength and direct, decisive action. Stealth is a skill that she needed to learn. Fortunately, she managed to avoid being spotted by the men in the UAZ.

After a solid seven minutes, Roach's voice speaks up in excitement. "Hey I think I found him!"

"Say again?" Ghost asks.

"I found codename Pike. He's moving westwards across the compound. Looks like he's got two goons for a guard detail though."

"Shadow him and see where he's going. Try and stay out of sight though."

"Roger I'm going to-" Roach's voice stops suddenly mid sentence.

It's unexpected, and Ghost starts to get a bad feeling. "Roach? Are you still their?"

A low whisper comes from the younger man, spoken slowly in annoyance. "I've been compromised..."

The sound of a voice not belonging to Roach is heard from the younger man's end, likely that one of Pike's men trying to identify him. Ghost weighed his options. "Scope have you got eyes on Roach?"

"Negative, he's around the corner of a demount building."

If Roach was going to survive this encounter, then there was no choice now. They had to forgo stealth. He turned to Gertrud and nodded to her, then gave the order. "Weapons free, go loud."

* * *

><p>Roach had his back to the man who currently was holding a pistol to the back of his head. He had tunnel vision from trying to find the target and because of that he missed hearing the footsteps of the guy who happened to spot him out the corner of his eye. The man demanded again in Russian for Roach to identify himself. He had to time this just right. Any fuck up here and it will be bye-bye Roach. The man spoke once more, this time in English.<p>

"Who are you?" Heavy footsteps fall heavily on the floor as the man draws closer to confront the young Sergeant. The Russian man inquires again angrily. "WHO SENT YOU?!" Roach felt the pistol jam its way into the back of his skull. A good thing; now he knew exactly where the pistol was. Now he can act in confidence. Roach gave a cheesy grin and chuckled.

"Housekeeping mate, I'm here to clean up the mess."

Roach quickly turned around and slapped the pistol off target, the weapon discharging mere inches from the young operators head. Roach quick draws his sidearm and puts two rounds in the man's skull. The man's body pitches backwards and falls into a table and onto the floor. He quickly returns his sidearm to his leg holster and adopts a siege stance with his rifle, moving to the cover of a nearby forklift. From where he is he barley has line of sight to Pike. The man turns to the two guards and barks orders to them before running towards the box trucks. The two guards start a sweep, passing Roach without noticing him.

"Roach, are you alright mate?" Ghost asks.

Once he's sure he's clear of danger the younger man responds."Yeah, but no doubt they would have heard that just now. We're going to be flying by the seat of our pants again."

"True that, stay frosty mate."

* * *

><p>Ghost notices that men are starting to exit the building on the left, moving to investigate the gunshot. About twelve men are already pouring out of the building, so Ghost decides to cut their numbers down. "Valkyrie, lets top this lot of wankers."<p>

"Roger."

Gertrud and Ghost roll out from their cover and open fire. Ghost manages to empty his clip into five of the men, while Gertrud opened fire with the MG36 she was carrying. The MG36 was essentially an LMG variant of the G36, fielded for light support roles. However, due to the nature of its suppressive fire and conversion into a light machinegun, even while silenced like it was now, it was much louder compared to a silenced rifle like the M4A1 that Ghost was currently using. The MG36 made a deep, guttural sound as rounds spat out of the weapon, killing the men that Ghost didn't get, she empties the whole drum mag into the group and into another three men stepping out of the building on the left. The Lieutenant move's up to clear the building across the street, but he's unaware of a new problem... the men in the UAZ hadn't known of their existence until Gertrud opened up. The men in the UAZ make out the silenced MG's dampened report and turn their attention to the faint noise. The driver quickly shifts the vehicle in gear, seeing Ghost materialize from the shadows. The UAZ's high beams flash into the Ghost's eyes as the Lieutenant is in mid reload, the vehicle charging forward straight at him.

Gertrud sees this and her heart almost stops. _Mein gott, he's going to be run over!_ Any further thought process she has at this point ends and she acts. She runs to Ghost and reloads her MG36, but the UAZ is now closer and gaining speed. She stands in front of Ghost and plants her feet, preparing to take the full brunt of the impact to save Ghost, much to his horror.

"Trudy!"

A sudden glow forms around Gertrud's body as her face becomes eerily focused. Then, to Ghost's amazement, Gertrud's familiar appears. With her feet planted firmly her hands reach out, appearing ready to catch the UAZ's front end. Gertrud actually raises her shield just before the UAZ smacks into her, then it breaks through. Gertrud catches the motor vehicle in her hands, and then, using the UAZ's forward momentum, lifts and throws the vehicle up over her head, the occupants inside screaming in terror. As the vehicle clears them Ghost swears that it flew about 130 feet through the air. It then hits the ground and slides another hundred feet over the asphalt and comes to rest.

Toad rounded a corner in time to see the whole spectacle, watching as a small SUV comes to rest just ten feet away from him. He watches in slack jawed amazement as two shaken men crawl out from the over turned vehicle, one of them having his legs buckle weakly. He drops them both but soon afterwards turns in the direction it came from and sees Ghost and Gertrud.

"HOLY FUCK!" Is his only response.

"Uh...did that car just... fly?" Scope asked in surprise, having seen the UAZ flying through the air, but unable see how it got airborne.

Gertrud looks to her hands in amazement. She actually used her magic in this world? It was more then she could ever dream. After days of fearing that her magic was gone forever, she was able to call upon it again. Her voice starts as a whisper. "My magic..." A smile crosses her face and her eyes light up. "My Magic! I..I really did it!" `She clenches her hands into fists and turns to Ghost in excitement. "Did you see Lieutenant!? My magic's returned!"

Ghost laughs weakly. "Bloody outrageous lass."

Gertrud laughed as she grabbed the grip of her MG36, her eyes settling on a man in the doorway of the nearby building, his eyes looking at her in terror, his legs knocking together uncontrollably and weapon levelled shakily at her. When she takes aim with her weapon the man screams hoarsely to his comrades.

" Демон!" He fires wildly, a few of the rounds he fires impacts Gertrud's shield, though the shield appears to flicker weakly at times.

Gertrud was grinning wildly. "I'M A WITCH AGAIN!" With her weapon now magically augmented, she fired at the man before her. The magically enhanced 5.56 ammunition was tearing easily through the man's Class III ballistic vest and heavily damaging the Kalashnikov in his grasp. His arms are both severed and his chest cavity quite literally explodes, soon followed by his head disappearing in a thick red salsa of blood, brains and skull fragments. To Ghost the poor sod may as well have been hit with a Browning .50cal. What little was left of the target collapses in a heap. Trudy however, continues into the warehouse office building, stepping over the remains of her reduced target.

"Trudy! Bloody Jesus H Christ." Ghost follows behind the young witch, trying to cover her as she starts pulling reckless stunts against the enemy. Her magic may now be useable again, but now it seems that it's gone to her head. From having to deal with a young girls depression, to now what appears to be her throwing caution to the wind while using her magic again. As he enters he watches her shredding through foot mobiles at varying degrees of bloody carnage. One thing he is quick to notice is how her shield seems to flicker like an old light bulb, the worrying thing is that at its weakest one or two rounds from enemy fire actually pass through her shield. He quickly tackles her out of enemy fire and behind a reception desk, providing them both with cover.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she demanded.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed ya bloody crazy girl?! You're shield isn't exactly at 100% or haven't you fucking noticed that?"

Her stern look faltered a little but she soon turned adamant. "I-I'll be fine. My magic can handle this easily."

"You're magic may now be active but it's still not running at full snuff. Until it is start using your head and don't be so bloody reckless! What the hell am I supposed to tell the girls if anything happened to you?"

Rebuffed, Gertrud shrinks as a guilty look forms on her face. She could hear Minna's words replay in her mind from the time she was critically wounded and needed to be treated by Miyafuji. If something happened to her then her units morale would be devastated. And Chris... Chris would be left alone in the world.

"You're right. I'm sorry for my recklessness." she apologized.

Shouting from across the room is heard as Pike's men start moving up to route Gertrud and Ghost. As Ghost pokes his head out from cover, he sees Toad enter the doorway and drop one target, then rolls back behind cover. Ghost fires and drops two men as they watch their killed comrade crumple to the floor. Gertrud follows suit with suppressive fire that tags two more men and keeps the rest behind cover.

"Be advised, code name Pike is in the van and making a break for it. I've got perfect line of sight: permission to take the shot?" Yuna asks.

Ghost makes a snap reply. "Neutralize his vehicle and use non-lethal take downs only." They need this target alive, extract some Intel from him, figure out just what Makarov's men have in mind.

"On it." After a few seconds she speaks again. "Vehicle is down. He's making a break for it."

"Can you wing him?"

Scope chuckled. "Sure thing; I'm aiming for his right kneecap." Another second goes by. "He's immobile, I'm going to go secure him."

Toad quickly pops a few rounds in three more men and hustles over to the administration desk that the Lieutenant and the young witch hid behind. Loading a fresh mag while staring at the mangled corpse at the front door squeamishly he turns to Ghost, shooting the older man a questioning look. "So what now?"

"Simple; we clear em out." He replies. He sends a message on his comm. "Roach, what's your position?"

"Far side of the building. Ah crap, the lorries are fucking off. I don't have a tracker on me."

"Do what you can mate, we're clearing the warehouse now."

"Roger. Damn, managed to incapacitate one but the rest are Oscar Mike." He pauses a moment. " I'll converge on the loading bay of the warehouse, hit those wankers in the rear."

"Brilliant, watch you're corners, it's pretty ugly in here."

Ghost produces a grenade from his webbing and pulls the pin. He turns to Gertrud and Toad, shooting them a look. "You two ready?"

Both the young witch and former Marine answer in the affirmative. Ghost tosses the grenade over the top of the admin desk. Panicked shouts cry out soon followed by heavy, fast paced footsteps and an explosion that kicks up debris. Before the dust can even have a chance to settle, Ghost advances with Toad and Gertrud following close behind. The grenade managed to kill about seven men and wound two more, which the trio quickly dispatched. Ghost stepped over blood and gore as he pressed forward. Two tangos pop out from round a corner and are quickly dispatched. As they move out from the warehouse office to the actual warehouse floor they are met with more gunfire. They take cover behind cargo palettes and shelving units holding crates.

"Five tangos up high on the upper level! Ten plus on the far side of the warehouse, assorted small arms." Toad warns.

Ghost takes in his surroundings and can see that the terrine could play to their favour. "We got shelves for cover on either side, I'll flank left, Toad flank right. Valkyrie hold here: Suppress them and draw their fire."

"Roger." she replies.

With Gertrud providing suppressing fire Ghost and Toad conduct a pincer move on the remaining tangos. Ghost kept his focus on the enemy currently in front of him, being sure to utilize cover as he advanced with swiftness and caution. The holographic sight of his weapon fell upon a man with a shotgun that had taken notice if his advance. Ghost gets behind cover just as buckshot blasts within inches of him. The shot gunner shouts to his comrades and starts moving towards the Lieutenant while his squad gives him cover. The crack of a sniper rifle rings out as a 7.62 round punches through Ghost's cover, exiting the other side not even two inches from his head.

"It's getting a little hot here Trude, swing some fire down the left flank."

In response, Gertrud's MG fire manages to tag the shotgunner, causing him to stumble. Ghost rolls out of cover just has the Russian man gets close, knocking the shotgun off target as it discharges and emptying the mag of his M4A1into the man. Ghost ejects the spent magazine of his rifle and replaces it with a fresh one. Pulling back on the T-charging handle he could hear his rifle make the satisfying click of a new round being chambered and the charging handle snapping back into place. He notices Toads advance forward, dropping two men that were moving up to intercede. Looking up to the catwalk Ghost can see three of the five men up high dropping and blood spurted from their body's, followed by Roach appearing on the second floor; transitioning to his sidearm and killing the last two men.

"Catwalk Clear."

Ghost tossed a flash bang downrange at the last remaining hostiles, blinding and deafening them, leaving them vulnerable for Ghost, Gertrud and Toad to neutralize. Finally theirs silence. "Ground floor clear."

"Sector Clear." Toad confirmed."

Ghost sent a message on his comm to Scope. "Scope, what's your status on Pike."

"One second. Get over here you-" A pair of grunts is heard followed by what seemed to be an impact and the sounds of a scuffle. "Better stop struggling or I'll start hurting you!" A voice speaking angrily in Russian is heard in background, but the man suddenly screams painfully. "I warned you, now keep still or I'll do it again." Panting heavily Scope responds. "I have Codename Pike secured. He pulled his side arm when I got close so I sundered it, then he tried to run again. Gotta give this guy credit, he's stubborn. I got him cuffed though."

"Good job, get his ass somewhere nice and cozy, we still have a few questions for Pike."

"Roger on that, I'm headed to the building in the center of the compound."

Toad, Gertrud and Roach gathered around the Lieutenant as he looked to them and gave them their new task. "Alright, we've got our man, now we've got to get to work on the next part of the mission." He looked over to Trudy as she looked at him with a straight face. "Time we find out just what the hell these guys have planned and just where those trucks are going."

"Should one of us go follow the trucks in the van?" Toad asked the Lieutenant.

After thinking it through for a moment, Ghost turns to Roach questioningly. "Did you see what direction they were heading mate?"

"Um..." Roach rubs the back of his neck nervously, trying to recall what direction the trucks were headed. But eventually he deflates. "I lost sight of them while I was in cover, I saw them leave out the front gate but not which direction they turned."

Ghost sighs. "We'll have to get that from that bastard as well then."

Toad look over nervously to Gertrud, looking her up and down with a look of mild fear. The others noticed and Gertrude looks to the American Task Force operator questioningly. "What?" she asks. Toad moves away hastily from Gertrud and up to Roach.

Roach turns to Toad, looking confused. "Something the matter?"

"Come here dude." Toad grabs Roach by the arm and drags him over to the Warehouse Office with the younger man question what Toads weird behavior was all about. After they disappear though the doorway, Ghost and Gertrud hear Roach cursing and Toad explaining to the Sergeant what Gertrud did to her targets.

"She did THIS?!"

"She brained this guy the butt of her weapon, I swear to god. I'd never believe it if I didn't see it myself. Can witches back in her world really do shit like this?!"

"I don't know, I've only see them fight aliens made of machinery. Oh FUCK! What happened to this guy!? And look at that Kalashnikov; theirs fucking holes in it mate!"

Ghost can see Gertrud shrink as the two men are heard making surprised exclamations over on the comms. He decides to coerce them to move on. "Alright you two cut the chatter and go link up with Scope, Valkyrie and I will be along in a minute." After both men shakily answer in the affirmative Ghost exhales and looks down at the young Witch. "How are you feeling luv?"

Gertrud reluctantly looks to the Lieutenant. She tries to put on a half hearted smile, the features of her familiar retreating. "I... was feeling better. I had my magic back, even if it's still not at full strength..."

"Has that changed?" Ghost questioned.

"No... I just..." Gertrud struggled to explain what she was feeling right about now, remembering what she had done while using what little of her magic she had. She wondered what could have happened if her magic power was at full strength, and she shuddered at the thought. She almost felt as bad as when she first took a human life. Her thoughts turn to the man she killed while he stood in the door way. Something about what he said... she couldn't remember what it was. "That man from before... when I had my magic... he said something. My Orussian isn't too good... what did he say?"

Ghost was silent for a moment, his jaw shifted as he stared at the young Kalrsland solider. Gertrud's eyes settled on him.

"Did he call me something?" she asked.

Ghost's jaw shifts again, he responds hesitantly. "Demon." It was a simple statement, his tone blunt as he answered her.

"Demon." Gertrud repeated the word. In hindsight she began to see how terrifying she could be towards a human target in this world, or worst of all, to her allies. "I think my magic is frightening the squad... and for good reason... it's just...at the time-"

"It's okay." Ghost said, interrupting her.

She blinked. "But I-"

"It's okay." He repeated to her slowly. He sniffed and then walked over to one of the dead men laying on the ground. "Sure, it may have been a bit overkill, but we're all alright, managed to top this lot and we have the man we came for. Only thing I need to worry about is you trying to pull anymore of that Rambo nonsense."

"I am sorry about that."

"But other than that you performed well." Ghost looked to Trudy again and looked to her with a firm look in his eyes. "We all did some pretty harsh things here in the 141. But sometimes harsh actions are needed, provided it's for the greater good. Hell, I was given the call-sign "Ghost" for a reason. But to tell the truth; you being able to use your magic again is a good thing Trudy." His eyes then softened as he continued. "Besides, it's good to see you smile and not looking down in the dumps like you have as of late."

Gertrud's eyes widened, then she lowered her head and her face blushed in embarrassment. "Y-yeah, I remember that." Ghost story had left a large impact on Gertrud, she took every word he spoke to heart. Recalling it helped give her a little perspective. She reluctantly looked up to Ghost as a small smile formed on her face. "I was overjoyed... to have my magic back... to be a witch again..."

"It's who you are luv. A solider and a witch. And I wouldn't want any part of that to change." He walked back over to Trudy and placed his hand on her shoulder. Her heart started to beat quickly as the Lieutenant's hand rested firmly on her. "About time we link up with the others and get back to it then."

"R-right." As she followed Ghost she could feel her face getting overheated and her heart still beating at a heightened pace. _That's strange... why do I feel so flustered? _She found her reactions to Ghost's simple action seemed to have such a big affect on her. She felt her reaction was unbecoming. _I'm a solider of Karlsland; I should be in control of my emotions._ But then came the question: WHY did she start feeling this way? The only time she ever felt even remotely like this was towards her sister Chris. Of course she admired and respected him... but was she starting to feel something for the Lieutenant that was rivaling the Karlsland witches feelings for her sister? She shook her head, decided to set this line of thought aside for a better time, right now the mission required her full attention.

* * *

><p><strong>U.S. Department of Defense<strong>

Overlord was observing the operations currently underway from the U. command. A squadron of aircraft were sent to probe the enemy currently entrenched in New York, but Anti-air batteries have already knocked one bird out of the sky. Looking over the screens as fellow intelligence, communications, and strategic command personnel were busy fighting this battle on the front of military intelligence and strategy. Observing a screen that overtook the entire front of the USCC, Overlord stood by patiently as a link to a Systems starlight is established.

"What's the sitrep on New York?" The General Commander asked.

The Battle Captain gave a snap response. " The Russian jamming rigs have neutralized our air support. As long as they maintain air dominance, it's a losing fight."

"We can NOT lose New York." the statement was firm and decisive. It is a simple fact that if the Russian's manage to keep the city in their hands that it will leave a staging area for the enemy to amass more troops and resources. That wasn't acceptable. "Are there any Special Mission Units in the area we can request?"

The Battle Captain and his subordinates start scanning for available units to task, cycling through the 75th Rangers and 2nd Marines and a few other units. But unfortunately many of these units were already being tasked with critical objectives. Overlord briefly considers the Intel he received in regards to what happened to the Rangers in Hunter-2-1 of the 75th Ranger Regiment, if only in passing. He had difficulty about believing it, but knowing that "something" managed to cause damage to the FOB a while back was suspicious. There were more rational explanations in his mind about it, possibly a prototype stealth drone or something that the Russian's had gotten their hands on. There was no video or photographic evidence to support either explanation however. After a moment the Battle Captain speaks again.

"JSOC's got a Delta Force team at Bennett Field. Call sign Metal." Looking over to the General Commander, he receives a nod in the affirmative to get in touch with the Delta Unit. Moving quickly at his station, he adjusts the radio uplink to make radio contact with Team Metal. " Overlord, Metal Zero One is up on green SAT." Once their signal is triangulated via the satellite uplink portraits of the Delta Operators appear on screen. Callsigns designated as Sandman, Grinch, Truck and Frost. The team leader, Sandman, responds to the hailing of the Operation's Center. They needed a squad for this key mission, and it seems that they were going to get the proverbial scalpel to cut out the tumor in New York City.

"This is Sandman – understand we are OPCON to you, over."

"Glad to have you in our corner, Sandman." Overlord and the other OP's command personnel know exactly where they need to send the Delta operators. The satellite tracks an electronic jamming tower on the roof of the New York Stock Exchange. He starts explaining the mission to the Delta Boys. " The Russians are using electronic countermeasures to jam our comms and guidance systems. The primary emission tower is on top of the Stock Exchange. I need your team to destroy it. The jammer's full spectrum, so until it's down, you'll have no radio contact. I have ground assets to get you close, over."

"Copy all – we'll get it done."

After the transmission ends Overlord turns to Battle Captain and his team. "Has there been any development on contacting the Canadian Department of National Defense yet?"

"We're still working on it. Ever since the attack on the FOB at Camp Shelby the Joint Chiefs of Staff wanted to get some outside help figuring out just what we're dealing with."

Another member of the Central Command staff turns questioningly to Overlord. "Do we know what it was that hit the base at Shelby?"

Overlord sighs heavily. "Well, there have been rumours from the Ranger's from Hunter-2-1, some Army and Marine Reserve personnel and the base personnel of some sort of attack by a group of unidentified object that three Rangers from Hunter-2-1 claim to be...aliens." At the mentioning of aliens Overlord spoke with great hesitation. Did he really say that out loud?

One of the communications staff looked flatly at the General Commander. "Aliens? You mean like Marvin the Martian variety or Roswell flavor or something?" Clearly he wasn't buying it. Neither were most of the other staff.

"The three Ranger's of Hunter-2-1, Sergeant David "Sean" Foley, Corporal Jake Dunn and Private James Ramirez claim that they are some sort of machine type, regenerating aliens that utilize direct energy weapons technology."

"So replicators that shoot lasers? That's original."

One of the intelligence officers scoffs. "Yeah right, that's real tabloid news right next to "big foot ate my baby" and "Elvis alive and well in the Australian Outback".

"Whatever it is we're dealing with the Joint Chiefs are calling in favours from our allies to deal with this unknown threat while our military deals with the Russians tearing up our living room. We're hoping to elicit help from JTF2 to look into whoever hit the Shelby FOB and deal with it. Apparently there is also an anomaly of some sort manifesting there."

The Battle Captain looks questioningly at Overlord. "What sort of anomaly?"

Overlord rolls his eyes. "I can't believe I'm going to say this..."Inter-dimensional", believe it or not."

"What? Okay is someone giving us Intel or the play by play of a comic book?"

"Unfortunately it looks like that may be the case, as hard as it is to digest. Those three Rangers as well as a large handful of Army and Marine reserve personnel and an AAV Amtrak crew all have the same story, as well as eyewitnesses accounts from the entire Forward Operations Base. Either something's in the water supply... or there is some very weird shit happening these days."

Thiers a long moment of silence when at last someone's voice groans out exasperation. "My money is on a spiked water supply with people tripping balls. This is some Grade-A piece of work." Begrudgingly leaving it at that, the Central Command returns to its job of directing troop movement and gathering intelligence. They focused their attention to known-known's and known-unknowns. The mysteries of the new unknown-unknowns was something that even the craziest of people would be skeptical towards.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the wait everyone, been a bit busy over on my end with both the story and some other projects IRL. Thank you for you're patience and I hope you enjoyed Chapter 23. From here the story will be sloughing through some very dark, gritty, chaotic situations so be prepared for them. The next Chapter is Oscar Mike.<strong>


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

**August 17****th**** – 9:49:59**

**Task Force 141 - Disavowed**

**Himachal Predesh, India**

**Tracking... Captain John "Price"...**

The command room was quiet as Price was looking through files thoughtfully, the only company being a lone loyalist at a computer desk with a computer system and five computer screens in the corner, sifting through Satellite communications and intel. Strewn from wall to wall were files, photos, documents, computers and a large map on one wall that was covered in photos, pins and sticky notes that were connected to each other and various places on the map with string. Price flipped through a set of files that he had on Shadow Company, musing over how this shadowed operations unit came to be. As he went into the units history he discovered that they were originally a Private Military Contracting agency, mere guns for hire, that, while shadowy and capable of dubious acts out on the field, was adored by a number of Conservative Positions in the United States Government that gave them desirable results; heavily contracted to take out threats both real and perceived against the US. Interesting of note was a year ago they were bought out by someone high up in the US military's chain of command, and officially embedded into the military as Shepherds personal strong arm, becoming supplemented with military personnel who were overly aggressive, had behavioral issues, even a few cases of those who had been discharged that had gotten reinstated. These guys did things that rivaled Black Waters rap sheet. Sure, the General tried to make them a bit squeaky clean, official, professional black operators but you'd have to ask yourself: how do you make sludge clean?

He was looking though these files to ensure that the bastards wouldn't be rearing their ugly heads again. Hopefully Price's message to the world would reach the ears of someone who would hear him about Shepherds betrayal. With the General gone and most of Shadow Company dead, whatever members that were left would either be arrested by government agents and tried for their crimes or would go into hiding.

Setting the Intel on Shadow Company aside, he moved onto files on Makarov. He studied every move, every bit of the Russian man's history, trying to get into the man's shoes, trying to figure out his next move. What will he be planning? What will be his next move? Where will he strike and when? As he ponders these things he hears the door to the command room open, Nikolai enters looking exhausted. Price looks to the PMC informant as the Russian man speaks to the old Task Force operator.

"Price, we've got vital signs but they're weak. Soap won't last without proper attention." He was talking about Soap, of course. The young Captain had barely survived a harrowing ordeal.

"He's a hard bastard. Trust me, he'll make it."

"Even if it's true, he's been lucky so far. Our medical facilities aren't exactly ideal, and we have only one surgeon doing patch work. He did all he could do with what we have. The Surgeon said he'd monitor Soaps condition in the meantime."

"That's good, but knowing Soap he'll be fine, a little rest and the lad will be back in business. Give him the chance to heal his wounds."

Nikolai turns thoughtful for a moment. "Shepherd must have been difficult man to kill. Having the Lieutenant and Roach with you two made things a bit easier I think."

"I'm inclined to agree with that sentiment. Less hassle taking down that yanks men at least, that counts for something." Price walks over to a table and sets down the documents in his hand. Standing over the table his eyes wander between documents and pages, silently contemplating.

Nikolai crosses his arms and leans up against one of the tables. "Has there been word from Ghost's squad yet on their progress?"

Price looks over to Nikolai briefly, then turns back to the table, continuing to read the scattered papers in front of him. "Ghost radioed two and a half hours ago. They got our man and the Lieutenant is currently working on getting something out of him. He'll let us know if the blokes got anything to work off of."

The Russian man's jaw shifts and clenches uncomfortably. "The Lieutenant has scary gift in what he does. I've heard about some of his work in Brazil interrogating Faust and Rojas. Gives me willies sometimes."

"At least the man's one of our own, rather have him exercising some of his skills on these bastards we're trying to hunt instead of us."

"I suppose that's some consolation... but sometimes I wonder about some of the things he does..." Nikolai scratches his head, looking a little hesitant but finally he ventures a personal opinion to the older Captain of the Task Force. "Captain, I still find that girl that Ghost and Roach brought with them is... urm... how to put it..."

"Strange?" Price turns and raises a questioning eyebrow at the Russian man. While it was a relief to learn that Ghost and Roach survived Shepherd's betrayal, it had been a shock to see they had a mystery girl with them in tow. Her origins were a lot for him to swallow but at least was able to accept that she was a soldier; granted a child soldier most of her life, he could buy that, but he still found everything else to be a stretch. Aliens, Witches and Magic were somewhat less believable.

"That would be a generous way to put it... I still question if she is trustworthy."

The old Captains face draws into a thoughtful expression. "Well if she won the trust of the Lieutenant of all people then that makes her okay in my book. From what we were told she and her squad saved both of their lives." He reaches out to a Camera sitting on the far end of the table, the same camera Roach had given him with Intel photographed on it. He brings up the photo viewer and cycles some of the pictures Sanderson took. He finally settles on a picture of what seemed to be a pair of small silhouettes in the sky; the first was a strange sized aircraft about the size of a Predator Drone, being chased by what seemed to be a small humanoid figure with devices on the small persons legs that looked a lot like what Gertrud described as a Striker Unit, similar to the ones that she brought with her. Even with photographic evidence, Price still found it difficult to believe through word of mouth and a somewhat blurry, unfocused photo. "On the other hand, I still don't think I buy the whole "Witch" nonsense. Call me a skeptic, but I'd want to see something like that with my own two eyes. Anyone claiming themselves to be able to use magic are either loonies spouting rubbish or just really good illusionists that use smoke, mirrors and misdirection for people's entertainment."

A sudden alarm sounds out from the computer terminal. The loyalist at the keyboard minimizes the program he was currently using and moves over to another terminal, gliding over to a radar terminal while seated in his desk chair, both Price and Nikolai's attention now resting on the loyalist at the terminal, with the Russian informant moving see for himself why Radar alarms were active. The seated loyalist's face darkens grimly as he studies the screen.

"We're picking up inbound signatures." he declares at last.

An exasperated expression crosses Nikolai. "We've got company." He gestures to the seated man and then to a large OP's Command screen mounted haphazardly onto the wall as the subordinate loyalist manipulates the controls. The screen switches on, showing a live Satellite feed of several dozen helicopter crossing India's borders.

Old man Price knew exactly what was happening."It's Makarov." he states knowingly. "He's tying up loose ends." He starts trying to piece together a course of action now that they have Makarov's cronies gunning for them. If they plan on escaping the impending assault, he knew they would need to prep all personnel and repel the attack. He would also need to move Soap out of the safe-house, and for that he would need someone to help move him. With the rest of the Task Force otherwise in dispose, he would need another body for the fire team that would be responsible for escorting the younger, injured Captain. And he would need the best of Nikolai's men to do squad up with them."Who's you're best man?"

The Russian informant turns thoughtful for a fleeting moment then suddenly he moves to the computer terminal, looking through computer files, bringing up a personnel dossier on the OP Comm Screen next to the live feed of the inbound rotor craft showing an image of a man in his early forties with a buzz cut. "Yuri. Ex-Spetsnaz. Only man I know who hates Makarov more than you."

"Get him." The old Captains eyes shift from the file of Nikolai's best man, Yuri, to the live sat feed of the incoming helicopters. "They'll use the ridgeline for cover and fly in from the south."

Nikolai raises a questioning eyebrow. "How do you know?"

"It's what I'd do." The old operator draws the M1911 pistol in his leg holster and racks the slide, then returns it to his holster. "We should get everyone on full alert and geared up. Take whatever Intel we can and burn what we can't. I assume you have an emergency evacuation plan for scenarios like this?"

"Of course." Nikolai smiles. "Such a thing was bound to happen sooner or later, my men and I have planed contingencies for it."

"Good." As Price is about to turn around and leave the room he stops suddenly. "You still have Barkhorn's Striker Unit's stored someplace?"

"Da, I had my men store them in the armory".

"Might want those ready for transport. If they are as important as Barkhorn made them out to be then we should probably get them ready to move when we do. Might want to get your men on it."

"I'll have the quartermaster take care of that while we work on getting Soap to safety."

"Let's get moving, I don't want to wait around for Makarov's men to kick in the door." With that, Price exits the room, moving to the makeshift medical wing with Nikolai giving the loyalist orders in Russian and then following the older operator out of the room. Another alarm sounds and the safe house becomes hustled chaos as men scramble to their stations, hastily preparing for the enemy to arrive and engage them.

* * *

><p>The air was cool and crisp tonight. Night-time was slowly giving way to dawn, the sun would be eventually approaching in the next few hours. Yoshika was awoken from her room early today. She swore that she could hear something coming from the bases pier. Having left her room after sharing another night with Lynette again, she wandered through the halls and eventually reaching the base grounds. As she walked the base grounds her mind had begun to wander.<p>

Ever since the incident with the Portal Rune and the two girls confessing their feelings to each other the young pair had become closer in a way Yoshika could only envision in her dreams. It was a good feeling, to finally share her feelings and her heart with Lynne. The young girl from Fuso was filled with a sense of warmth, a sense of feeling complete somehow. With the trying times involving the base coming under siege from a Neruoi raid seeing the number of men dead and wounded. Normally Yoshika would have frozen up or have found herself hindered by her worries, fears and the crushing sadness and it would wind up hindering her when she needed to perform her duties. But now things seemed different for the young girl. Sure, the feelings were still there, some of her worries and concerns, but with Lynne by her side she felt like she could work through them easier, as if she were grounded somehow.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Jenna, the Liberion Tank witch of the 78th Tame Witches. Yoshika could see that the girl was running laps around the base, a regimen that she and the other girls notice the Three Ranger's were using during their week in this reality and decided to emulate it. She wasn't sure how long the tank witch was at this, but something deep down told her that she may have been at it for a while. Jenna slowed to a trot before halting altogether. She started to stretch out her legs as she panted heavily, presently noticing Miyafuji in surprise.

"Oh, Sergeant Miyafuji. Good evening. Er... or is it morning? Aw screw it, it's going to be a new day anyways."

"Miss Jenna, you're up early. Are you training?"

Jenna nodded. "Yeah, been keeping myself in shape. If I'm going to kill Neuroi I have to be at my best to do it."

Yoshika knew the older girls reasoning and it made sense. Having been in the military for a while now she came to understand that training and drills were important to a soldier to stay in top physical shape to perform well in battle. It was an inevitable, inescapable fact. Though now her curiosity was growing...

"Is Darya feeling any better? I thought you two were going to spend the night in the post op ward. Did something happen?"

Jenna sheepishly shook her head. "No, no. We both managed to get some rest for a while, but... well... Darya wanted me to train for a while. Said she didn't want to keep me out of form from worrying over her. She insisted on it." A reluctant, melancholy smile crossed the Liberion girls face as she spoke. "The two of us have been together since the first time we came to the 78th. She has been very special to me... only one who I could rely on to watch my back. I never had anyone back home in Liberion to help me out, had to take care of problems myself. It was hard, but hey, what can you do besides to just deal with it?"

Yoshika blinked. "No one? I don't understand, don't you have family back home in Liberion?"

Jenna shook her head. "Nah, I was an orphan. No parents, no siblings. Just me."

The young Sergeant deflated, looking a little guilty. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"Hey, don't be. Shit may have been tougher for me than most people but I got by."

"How did you manage?" the younger girl asks curiously.

"Worked my ass off trying to make my way for starters; did a few odd jobs, sold newspapers on the side for some pocket money, surprised a lot of the paper boys let me tell ya. Of course, early on I find out I had a gift in using magic so with that I tried to figure out how I could use it right. That was one thing that old man Higgins taught me. He owned this Grocery store back in Philly that had the best produce you'd find anywhere, only person who even gave me the time of day. Even got to work for him one summer."

Yoshika beamed happily, glad to hear that at least someone was there for the Liberion girl in her life. "He sounds like a really nice man."

Jenna seemed lost in her memories as her smile grew wider. "He said I had a gift. That I should use it to help people somehow. For the longest time though... I didn't know how. But then with the war starting up, well, I figured I'd do my share." Jenna's head turned skyward as she watches the last few stars in the sky twinkling faintly. "I walked into the recruitment office and signed up to be a Tank Witch, went to basic to get trained and when I was combat ready I got shipped off here." She scoffed. "Barley saw any action, mostly did aid work... but I did meet Darya the first day I was transferred to the Tame Witches, things felt easier to handle when I was around her."

Yoshika's face lights up in excitement. "She must be very special to you, I'm so happy for you both."

The older girl nods, and gives a light chuckle. "Yeah, she really is. What about you Miyafuji, have you got anyone you care for like that?"

Yoshika's face turns beet red, becoming flustered from the question. "Eh?! Well, um... that is...I mean..." Yoshika blinks and hesitantly confides her feelings. "Lynne, s-she was the first friend I made after joining the Strike Witches. I grew to like her a lot, and after a while, she became the person I'd want to give my heart to. I just didn't have the courage to tell her how I feel about her until recently."

Jenna blinked. "Oh, really? What held ya back?" she inquired in curiosity.

Yoshkia thought about that question for a moment before answering. "I guess I was embarrassed."

"And why's that?"

"Well she's my friend, right? Friends aren't normally supposed to have feelings like that, are they?"

"Well sometimes that's okay. Some people I knew started out as friends before it became something more. A little chemistry never hurt though. Is that the only reason?"

Yoshika shook her head. "No. I was scared too."

"Scared?" Jenna seemed confused as to why Yoshika would be afraid. She had heard a lot of stories about the Sergeants courage, so she always assumed the younger girl was a fearless rookie ready to make a name for herself. She was surprised that Miyafuji was actually afraid of something.

"I was scared of what Lynnette would think, of what she would say if I told her."

Jenna eyed the Fuso girl with intense interest. "If that's the case then what changed for the two of you to hook up?"

Yoshika gave a subdued smile. "Do you know about that day all this weird stuff first started?" Jenna nodded, understanding the details of that day. "We were in a battle, it was pretty hard fighting the Neuroi that day. We won but I was so tired that I blacked out in that strange ruin the Neuroi were messing with. Later that night, Lynne... she... she told me how much she worried about me... how scared she was if something happened to me...about how important I was to her. After she told me everything I felt like I had to tell her how I felt in return."

"I see." Jenna said at last. "Well, however you two got paired together, it's a good thing to find someone who you can lean on during the hard times. Darya was my lifeline in life, so now I have to be her lifeline in return." Jenna's smile dampened as a look of uncertainty crossed her face. "I just hope I can live up to that role now that things turned out as they have..."

Yoshika caught on the older girls change in emotions and chose to give her reassurance. "I'm sure you'll do your very best. I know Darya will appreciate whatever you do for her."

"Yeah. Nothing but the best for her, anything less is inexcusable."

The sound of what seemed to be thunder and a surge of water loudly came from the base pier, grabbing the attention of both girls. Yoshika recognized it as the same sound that woke her up earlier.

"Ah, that noise! I recognize it from when I was in bed!"

Jenna chuckled. "She's still at it. I've never seen anyone train as hard as that before."

"She? " It took a moment for her to realize that Jenna was talking about Sakamoto, as the older warrior from Fuso would be the only other person awake and training at this time. "You mean the Major?"

"Hell yeah. She's one hell of a soldier. I better get my butt back to training as well. Five more laps and I can get back to bed with Darya." Jenna straitened up and began her trot around the base again. "I'll see you later Sergeant."

"See you later." After watching Jenna trotting off out of sight, Yoshika continued towards the pier, heading into the direction of the sound breaking the early morning silence. After a while she finally spotted the Major, currently perched upon a column that was sticking out of the water. The Major seemed to be very calm and focused, he sword gripped firmly as a calm, blue glow radiated from the blade.

"What is she doing?" Yoshika murmured quietly. She wasn't sure just what the Major was doing. Quietly she watched the older girl in her state of calm. The Major stood calmly as the blade was pointed straight up towards the sky, keeping as still as a statue when she slowly started to draw the sword back behind her head. She stood still for another minute when at last she gave a loud cry.

"REPUZZAN!"

Sakamoto brought the blade down as a surge of magic energy was launched from the blade of Repummeru. The blade of magic cut deeply into the sea and surged forward suddenly. The amount of power was amazing, Yoshika could see a pillar of water rise up from where the Repuzzan entered the water, and then watched as the focused magical energy charged forward and traveled for what seemed to be around 300 yards, maybe even more, splitting water as the energy traveled forward and then dissipated. The major seemed winded from the display, but Yoshika barley noticed that, her attention was more on the majors attack.

"What was that!?"

After catching her breath, the Major just became aware of Yoshika's presence. She turned to the younger girl with a look of mild surprise. "Miyafuji..."

"That was an amazing technique! I mean Incredible!"

Mio sighed grimly, turning her gaze back to the open sea that she had trained with. "Not incredible enough."

Yoshika was surprised, an amazing display of a powerful magical attack and it wasn't incredible enough? She wondered how that could possibly be, but the Major continued, saving Yoshika the trouble of asking a question.

"My goal is to master the Reppuzan so it transcends into the Reppuzan: "Shin-Reppuzan." she explained.

"Oh... a Shin-Reppuzan?"

"Yes. It is a secretive and ancient technique of the Fuso Empire. It's power can destroy any Neuroi, with a single blow at that. I just need to master it."

Yoshika's eyes widened in amazement. _An ancient technique? That can destroy any Neuroi in a single blow?! Wow!_ A sudden thought comes to her and a determined look gleams in her eyes. "Please Sakamoto! Will you teach me how to use the Shin-Reppuzan too? Maybe if we both master it then we can defeat the Neuroi that much faster!"

The Major displayed a clear look of doubt. " No. You're still a beginner, you won't be strong enough yet." A Fuso Witch had to spend a great deal of time training with a sword to the point of excellence, each swing made so that every motion could be remembered as if it were second nature. Not to mention the Reppuzan itself must be honed once physical sword training is to standard. Mio had been training with her blade for all of her military career. Miyafuji meanwhile, had far less training in comparison.

But the young Sergeant was still adamant. "Well I can try though! It's wouldn't hurt anything, you have to give me a shot!"

Mio sheathed her sword and wearing a firm look. She saw how stubborn Miyafuji was, but this sort of training was currently beyond the Sergeants abilities. Aside from experience in sword training, a witches skill with her own magical aptitude and the high concentrations of raw either coursing through a sword like Reppumaru also needed to be taken into account. A great deal of safety concerns would befall a rookie who would try to conduct such training before they were ready. The Major wasn't about to risk the life of Doctor Miyafujis Daughter before she was ready. And currently she is no where even near.

"I'm sorry." she said at last.

Yoshika's face seemed struck with surprise, but it soon turned to sadness. She wanted to become stronger so that she can protect everyone, but for the first time she's being denied an opportunity to do so. Her eyes sank to the ground once the Majors decision was made final. _But why..._

* * *

><p>"So did you tell any of the brass about Shepherd?"<p>

"Yeah, I tried to."

"And? How did it go?"

"Brass said that they were going to look into it, conduct an investigation into the matter, see if there's any weight to the accusations that the 141 were making. Until they find any evidence otherwise they are going to be treated as a rouge unit."

Dunn sighed heavily at the news Foley had just imparted to him. "Man... that's some major bullshit..."

Before getting shipped to the staging area the Sarge gave a complete verbal and written report of what the three Rangers had been through, details about this alternate reality of humanity fighting aliens that the trio had spend a week in and the handful of personnel about forty five minutes. While during that week the three men had an opportunity to interact with the girls of the 501st and even fight alongside them on a few occasions. After the major battle that Both the Rangers as well as the two operators of the 141 had made first contact with the Neuroi there had been two other instances of contact before the Neuroi's raid on the witches base. One where they were stuck observing an air battle that the witches fought and another where they had to hit some Neuroi scouts on the ground with 1940's era anti-tank weapons; Bazookas, Panzerfaust, Panzerchrecks and old school Anti-tank rifles alongside whatever 40 Mike-Mikes they had left. It was a whole new level of combat stress that was really pressing on the three Rangers, though they figured that fighting aliens that shoot lasers and can grow to the size of a 747 or larger would stress out anyone.

Aside from the combat conditions, they also had to deal with integration with the indigenous personnel; both with the witches and with the base personnel, the witches being very sociable for the most part. The brass were, at the very least, disturbed by the notion that Child Soldiers were being used as frontline shock troops and placed squarely in direct engagement with a hostile, aggressive force like the Neuroi. Foley opted a Neutral viewpoint on what he saw and experienced alongside his subordinate squad mates and what his thoughts were based on that alone, but he had the feeling that a few of the higher ups may opt to get involved in some capacity to "Liberate" the young witches from their nations military's. In his world, it is an undisputed fact that the use of child soldiers by any nations military or any other militant faction constitutes a deplorable, inexcusable war crime under United Nations treaties and laws of the Geneva Convention. Foley, heck any halfway decent person, would say that anyone putting kids in combat gear and giving them guns to wage any form of warfare is a scumbag of the highest calibre. But then, children in Foley's world are vulnerable to harm, the most vulnerable of innocents that should be protected, and allowed to grow and find themselves in life... though he was hesitant to admit it, at least the witches had their magic to protect them. They were not nearly as vulnerable in comparison, though it still made the Sergeant uneasy; even with magic, a part of both he and the other Rangers couldn't help but feel that the young girls of the witches squadrons shouldn't have to fight a war, they should be experiencing their childhoods instead of losing it to the horrors of war. But alas, a witch and her magic WERE the most effective countermeasure against the Neuroi...

Finally the Intel from Ghost and Roach about the true events surrounding Shepherd's true motives, his betrayal and the 141's disavowment at this point was simple hear-say. Until the circumstances are investigated on an official level, the higher ups aren't taking any chances; unless proven otherwise the Task Force is going to be treated as a hostile force with kill/capture orders placed upon the surviving operators in its ranks. After spending a week with the two operators in the Witches world Foley doubted that have betrayed their countries, but sadly there was little he could do about things.

Another thing that gnawed at Foley's mind was the fact that some Neuroi had followed his people into his world. He saw firsthand just a fraction of what the Neuroi could do, and from what the witches and their fellow countrymen in uniform had told him and the others, then his world may be in greater danger than ever. He hoped that maybe the brass's plan to convince the Canadian Military to help get involved with the Neuroi situation, maybe even help from the British or whomever will be willing to help back them up against this new threat, but the fact they first had to explain just what had occurred and who they would have to fight may prove be a factor to their detriment.

Foley turned his attention back to the squads of men and women currently embedded in the damaged office tower that the Ranger's of Hunter-2-1 were sharing with Hunter-2-2, members of the Third Infantry, a few New York National Guard squads, an element of the 1st Stryker Brigade and a few squads of the 4th Marine Division, 4th Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion, James's sister among them. Snipers had taken position on the higher levels of the structure while gunners, riflemen and close quarters specialists took up positions on the lower levels. An observation post was established as the building was the tallest in this particular part of the city. New York was being heavily contested by both American Forces and the Russians, though thankfully Delta Team Metal managed to take out the communications jammer, allowing unhindered communications between units and command. Foley hoped that the Delta Unit and Seal Team would be able to get control of the Russian missile sub and take out the Russian Navy currently bottlenecked in the harbor. They needed a decisive victory, now more than ever. Right now they all just needed to hold on to their position and not lose it.

Foley's eyes catch the Private at a massive hole in the wall where a window once was, sitting quietly over the cityscape, the young man reclined against a crate of ammo and his leg hanging over the edge of the gaping maw that led to the city streets below. The young Ranger had a cold gaze traveling through the ACOG of his M4A1, his eyes unblinking from beneath his ballistic glasses.

"How's the Private holding up?"

Dunn grimaced. "I dunno, not good I figure. His sister dropped a fucking bombshell of bad news." he sighs and shakes his head solemnly. "I've been their man. Went through the same thing when it was my family. Messed me up pretty bad for a while... he's gotta be feeling it too."

"I wouldn't blame him if he was hurting a bit. I just hope he doesn't do anything reckless."

Dunn caught himself thinking back to the week before, remembering that moment a week ago; where he walked into the street, exposed in the open just to double tap wounded enemy troops. Thinking back on his actions, they were pretty reckless. James may have been Hunter-2-1's "go to guy" for getting things done, but the Corporal cringed at the thought of something happening to his battle buddy because of blind, reckless rage. "Yeah, think I should go talk with him?"

Foley is silent for a moment. After taking time to contemplate he speaks plainly. "Use your judgment. If you do decide to reach out to him; take it slow, and try not to pry too much. Just let him know we'll watch his back, alright Corporal?"

Dunn gave a curt nod "Roger Sarge, I'll try and talk to him for a minute. Wish me luck." With that Dunn started to make his way over to the private's resting place, passing soldiers who were moving throughout the rooms of the building. Once he finished making his way through the office floor he rested up against the wall behind Ramirez. He looked over to the younger man, opting to take an even tone in speech.

"Hey."

"Hey." James's reply is monotonous. Unfeeling. His eyes still gazing down the ACOG mounted on his weapon.

"How are you holding up, dude?"

"I'm doing fine, man."

Dunn leaned forwards a bit to gaze out at the city; he could see debris, ruined cars and bodies littering the streets. The corners of the corporal's mouth shifted at the state of New York and the after effects of urban warfare below him. He noticed another element of the 1st Stryker Brigade rolling down the road and turning down an intersection four blocks down. "You got this street locked down?"

"Yeah."

"You see anything out their?"

"Not yet."

Dunn was quick to notice that James was giving short answers, and the tone he used while giving them. He hadn't seen James like this before. He knew Ramirez as a quiet, hard charging man. The Private was a young reserve Ranger who decided to become a regular, fully active Ranger after he spent some time getting his training in Ranger School. Took him a few months to get rotated to regular, active duty service, but it seemed like it was good for him; he took to his duties well out in the field, showed exceptional initiative and motivation, even was a team player in the squad . But Dunn was noticing that James was probably having the same problems he faced when he heard the news about his family: the younger man was becoming more withdrawn, less patient, and the recent talkative streak he developed back in the witches world had become dampened; he was becoming less and less chatty.

"You want to talk, bro?" Ramirez gave Dunn an uncaring look. Dunn could read the younger man clearly; he didn't want to be bothered. Just wanted to be left alone. His eyes lazily turn back to the cityscape, his eyes fixed on a point that far past the Stock Exchange. "Alright, alight, I'll shut up. Just wanted you to know that I'm here to lend an ear if you need it, alright?" As he stands up and starts to walk back to Foley, the Private's voice stops him.

"What was it like for you?" Dunn looked back over at the Private with a raised eyebrow. "What did it feel like when "it" happened to you?"

Dunn knew what "it" meant. He sighed and shifted the weight on his right foot to his left. "I felt like shit. Felt guilty I was still alive, felt like I should have been their..." He walked back up to the wall and leaned his back against it, folding his arms contemplatively. "Cried my eyes out for a while, then I just felt madder then the fucking Hulk."

"You feel like killing every Russian you see, too?" the younger man asks coolly.

"Pretty much, felt like that for a while... well, a little less so now..." Ramirez glances questioningly at the Corporal, likely asking himself what Dunn meant by that or why his feelings changed now. So he elaborates. "You know back in the witches world right? About those girls, Sanya and Darya, the..." Dunn's face strained as he seemed to be thinking really hard. "...Orussains? Am I saying it right?"

"Yeah, what about em?"

"I dunno, I guess being around them kind of help get some perspective I guess."

"You don't hate these mother fuckers at all?" the Private held a tone of surprised accusation. "They are killing our people, man! They killed our families!"

"In a way I still hate, I guess." Dunn admitted reluctantly, which only added further confusion in the Private. But after a moment of silence Dunn's voice becomes more sure, more decisive. "I hate the bastards that killed my family, but it's just them I hate. The other Russian's, yeah they piss me off a bit, but I sure can't hate a whole country for what some scumbags wearing their counties uniforms did. And by extension I sure as hell can't hate the Orussian's in the girls reality; they weren't the ones who pulled the triggers on our loved ones, so hating them would just be insane, ya know."

Ramirez looks at Dunn, studying the Corporal for a moment as he takes in Dunn's perspective on things, trying to gauge the man's feelings. At last he looked back though his ACOG. "I'll agree with you on Sanya and Darya. Whole other reality and shit. They're okay. But these guys, the bastards responsible for all this.." his eyes travel around the city and then the ruined building both he, Dunn and the other American troops resided in. "Not so much..."

The older Ranger shrugged. "Fair enough..." Dunn had to trust he said the right things, it's only a matter of the Private absorbing what he just imparted to him. Junior NCO's had to watch out for their squad mates, that's just how it is; the guys high up watch over those below them and those guys do the same for the guys below them. That's how military life worked. Chain of command. At that moment both men hear Foley call out to them and motions them over, a gaggle of troops forming a circle around a table. Carmen was at the outer edge of the gaggle, looking over at her brother expectantly. Both Ramirez and Dunn exchange looks.

Dunn gestures with his head over at the Sergeant. "Looks like the Sarge wants us." Ramirez nodds silently, a grunt of acknowledgement escaping him in response. Whatever it was, it looked like another mission is going to be around the corner.

* * *

><p>There was a rundown building not far from the storage warehouses, a little weathered and completely abandoned, save for perhaps for the past evening. Dust covered the interior and the wooden floorboards creaked as they were walked on. Whatever furniture was left was strewn about and in poor condition, although a few cigarette butts and empty beer bottles in a few of the rooms and a worn, dirty, heavily stained mattress indicating that teenagers sometimes made this place an occasional hangout to smoke, drink and engage in unprotected coitus. The place had seen better days. But for today it had occupants, and it wasn't stoned, sex-crazed teenagers...<p>

"Alright, let's try this again, mate. What's Makarov been planning? What was the mission you and your men were tasked with?"

A Russian voice rings out in defiance, echoing through the dreary halls and corridors. Words spoken in response to the interrogator, expressing his feelings to his captors. The sound of zapping, a jolt of electricity, soon followed by a pained scream from one of the rooms. A faint light pours into the corridor from a room, the door ajar and barley holding onto its rusted hinges. After a few seconds the electric discharge ends, the voices owner drawing labored breaths.

"The sooner you co-operate the sooner this ends. I can keep this up for as long as I have to... just give us what we want to know."

Pike looked up at the Skull-Masked Man interrogating him. Two sharp metal rods were embedded in his legs and attached to wire and in turn attached to a few car batteries and a switch taken from one of the walls of the building. The Russian's face was already black, blue and bloodied from the heavy persuasion courtesy of his interrogator, the British man demanding answers to his questions, but Pike was keeping a tight lid on what he knew. He was subjected to several hours of brutal treatment, almost to the point of being unbearable. The worst part was that the metal rod in his right knee was close to where the bullet fragments of the round fired from the Sniper of the unit had embedded itself, it was aggravating a few of them and digging painfully into his leg.

Codename Pike looks up the Lieutenant while slumped in the chair he was tied to. He speaks something again in Russian, though he takes an occasional breath between sentences. Ghost groans in annoyance. "Now, now, there's no need for name calling. An attitude like that will just make this more difficult." Ghost's eyes meet Roach who is currently standing behind the Russian with his rifle in hand. Ghost gives a slight nod, which Roach returns. The Sergeant then raises his M4A1 up and swings the collapsible stock into the back of the man's head, a pained grunt escaping their captive.

Ghost questions the man again. "Come on now mate, what is Makarov's next move, and just what is your part in all this?" It's already been several hours. Having gotten news that the Safe house in India was compromised Simon knew that whatever Makarov's plans were they were currently in motion, it was only a matter of time before something big and ugly went down. He could feel it in his bones. His eyes glanced to Toad, Scope and Trudy who were each at rest on a wall in the room. Scope was sitting in a chair next to a window and calmly meditating, or at least trying to. The sounds of the interrogation were disrupting her attempts at calming her mind. Toad and Gertrud stood against a wall watching the interrogation unfolding before them. At the beginning Gertrud was struggling to keep straight face and keep her chin up, but he could tell by the look in her eyes that she was uncomfortable. Despite knowing some of the things the Task Force had to do for the sake of national security, it was still an uneasy experience for her to see torture that teetered upon the precipice of barbarism. The worst Gertrud had even done was beat up Maloney's second in command for around a minute; not exactly the same as electrocuting a human being for hours on end. By now she still wasn't comfortable with it, but she was handling it much better, though Ghost wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Still keeping tight-lipped, eh?" Ghost turned back to the Russian man tied to the chair and starts walking slowly from one end of the room to the other in a deliberate manner as he spoke. "Let me guess, figure yourself a patriot. Bring down the big bad Western Allies threatening your way of life or are you just a guy willing to do whatever you can to make a quick buck. What's a little blood on your hands when you have some major cash burning a hole in your pocket? Am I getting warm yet?"

Pike scoffs. "Who's to say it isn't a little of column A and a little of column B?"

Ghost sniffs. "Power-mad sod then. I've seen my share. It's infrequent, but I have experience with that sort." Ghost stops pacing and crosses his arms, staring down code name Pike intensely. "Unfortunately for you there's more than one way to deal with men like that."

"Say's the man who's now wanted by his own country! Inner Circle knows all about you and Task Force 141. It's beyond me why you even bother fighting for them even when your countrymen hunts you down like dogs!" Pike scoffed, being all the more defiant. "You think you can break me? I've had worse than this."

Ghost frowned at the bitter reminder. Anyone else in his position may have been content hiding off in some third world shit-hole, gone off the grid for good and make a new life from nothing. But to Simon, that seemed like an easy out. He wasn't the type to take easy. He liked doing things the hard way, try his hand at a difficult challenge and rise up to meet it. Clearing the names of the 141 was exactly the challenge he was willing to meet. Who dare wins; SAS motto, and was exactly what he planned on doing. "I know I can. All it takes is a little time and just the right tool." Ghost was confident sounding as he spoke. He knew all the right ways to make a man hurt. How to coerce information out of a man. How to poke around in a man's mind and break him down from the inside out. This guy may have been giving the Lieutenant a run for his money, but as tough as he seemingly was, even he likely has a breaking point.

Everyone has a breaking point.

Pike drew a sneer at Simon. "You think that's supposed to scare me, skull faced man? You think your death incarnate? I've seen what true face of death is. Your but a caricature; all style and no substance. You don't frighten me." He sat back in his seat and glared up at the British man. "Do your worst... while you waste time on me, my comrades will complete their mission."

The Lieutenant is silent for a moment. His gaze shifts to the makeshift electric torture devise that he had put together. He silently debates flipping the switch again and leaving it on for a solid minute-fifteen, but he has already tried the electrocution method on Pike and he still hasn't cracked. The man probably faced similar torture before and was able to become resistant to it to a degree. Besides, even if he could keep it up anyways Ghost had some misgivings about the potential of Pike's heart giving out. For now, codename Pike needed to be alive, whatever was in his head was what Simon wanted. He had very little with him to work his magic on Pike. The Russian man seemed fearless, so he needed a way to instill fear in his captive. He had no hallucinogenic drugs or any other mind altering agents on him to use to his advantage. He continues trying to find a way to devise a favorable outcome. Ghost looks about the room; when his eyes rest upon Gertrud, a moment of inspiration strikes him.

Ghost takes a massive step forward and leans in towards Pike. His nose hangs a few inches from the Russian man's face. "Are you familiar with Norse Mythology, Pike?" The Russian man's face tweaks in mild confusion in response. Ghost continues. "I just wonder if your familiar with the Myth of how Odien ruled over Valhalla, heaven for soldiers and warriors in a sense. It is said that one of its denizens; beings called Valkyrie, choose who lives and dies in battle, and are tasked with bringing their chosen to the hall of the slain. Beautiful and strong warriors who rode mighty steeds upon the battlefield and brought the souls of warriors to the afterlife to prepare for the end of the world." Ghost leaned in closer and whispered in the man's ear. "What if I told you that these lovely ladies are real; and we have one in our ranks?"

The Task Force show silent yet questioning looks that are directed at Ghost, with Gertrud looking confused. They weren't sure where the Lieutenant was going with this. Pike blinked, then he laughed.

"Ha! You tell funny story, you think I'd really believe that tall tail. You cannot be that foolish and desperate!" Ghost just grinned and motioned Gertrud over. Hesitantly she walked over to join the Lieutenant. He then looked over to Toad who had both his rifle and a captured, old school AK-47 with him. Ghost motioned to the AK on Toad's back and made a gesture for him to pass it over. Toad un-slings the AK and tosses it to the Lieutenant. Upon catching the Russian Assault Rifle, he removes the magazine, ejects the chambered round and then hands the weapon to Trudy.

Pike watches all this looking confused, but when the unloaded AK is handed to the girl he starts laughing again. "Pah! You think a girl with empty weapon is supposed to frighten me? Pathetic British fool! I can't believe how stupid you are!" Pike continues to laugh boisterously.

Gertrud gives a questioning look to Ghost. He makes a motion to her with his hands; his palms pressing together repeatedly. Gertrud seems to understand and looks at the captive with a stern, stoic look. With the weapon in her grasp, she takes hold of the Barrel of the AK and focuses her magic. It's a little rough calling upon it, but she manages to get a good flow of energy, her familiar appearing and her hands glowing faintly. She then begins to bend the barrel of the AK, the metal making a strained creaking sound in protest as its pulled into a 90 degree angle. Pike's laughter ends abruptly and his smile fades, he stares blankly at the display and damaged AK being held by the girl before him. Gertrud then places the bent barrel and the stock of the weapon between her hands and focuses more magic energy into her palms. With a grunt she presses her hands inward, the Kalashnikovs metal parts creaking and scraping and the wooden stock straining and splintering until the assault rifle looks like it's a folded accordion. At this Pike bleats fearfully, his legs start scrambling across the wooden floor as he struggles to move away from the girl in front of him. He starts jabbering incoherently in Russian as the chair scrapes across the floor.

"If you think that was something, imagine what she can do to you, mate." Ghost chuckles.

Pike is speaking both Russian and English in a terrified tone of voice. "KEEP AWAY! KEEP HER AWAY FROM ME!" He switches into Russian for a while and then back into English while still trying to get distance from Gertrud as she lets loose a low growl. "PLEASE, CALL YOUR SHE DEVIL OFF!" Gertrud tosses aside the squished AK and takes a menacing step forward. A scream of terror escapes codename Pike as he recoils in fear. " нет! нет! I'll talk! За любовь к Богу я буду говорить!"

Yuna sighs and uncrosses her legs. "I can't get centered with all this noise..." she murmurs ruefully. "Not to mention I can feel that guys fear. Makes me feel unbalanced."

"Well that seemed to work better than expected. Almost seems unfair in a way." Toad mused. He looks over to Yuna questioningly. "What do you mean you can feel his fear?"

"Just as I said. It's kind of a weird sensation I get when people show intense emotions sometimes." Anticipating Toad's confusion she taps her forehead between her eyes. "Mind's eye open, remember."

Toad sighs audibly. "Why do I even ask?"

Ghost rests his hand on Gertrud, holding her back. They both exchange a glance at each other and the seasoned witch nods in understanding, backing off to give Simon space to work. He takes a step towards Pike and grabs the other man's arm firmly. "You ready to talk now?" He receives a nod as an answer, at which he releases his grasp on the man. "Good. Now then, from the top; what exactly have you and your men been up to in the warehouse district?"

"My men and I have been preparing for an important mission, the instructions of which are to be followed to the letter."

"And what exactly are the parameters of this mission exactly? What is your role in it?"

Pike's eyes shift from Ghost to Gertrud. The Karslander scowls firmly at him and he shakily turns his attention back to the Lieutenant. "Makarov ordered us to get Intel from Hamburg regarding political dignitaries."

Ghost raises an eyebrow. "Politics eh? Whatever for?" After a pause he ventures a guess. "An assassination?"

Pike shakes his head. "It is to confirm the identity of delegates for peace treaty negotiations, they are supposed to be leaving on a flight from Moscow to Hamburg. Half of my men were here and another half in Moscow gathering Intel and preparing for operations."

Something about this made red-flags go up in Ghost's head. If the targets are political dignitaries, things could get ugly depending how high value the target was. "What kind of operations?!" Ghost demanded curtly. "Out with it!" He could see Pike was avoiding answering his question. The Russian man hesitated, torn between loyalty to his men and mission and fear of having his body rearranged by Gertrud. Ghost looks to the young warrior from the other world and gestures with his head to Pike. The witch approaches and grabs the man's BDU collar.

Before she can raise her fist to start beating the man he bleated an answer, abject terror in his voice. "A HIJACKING! MY MEN IN MOSCOW WERE TO STOW ABOARD THE AIRCRAFT WHILE MY MEN HERE WERE TO MEET AT RONDEVUE POINT BETWEEN POINT OF DEPARTURE AND DESTINATION OF ARRIVAL!"

"Hijacking." Ghost could feel a tense atmosphere in the room, the operators in the Task Force stiffening at this news. A hijacking is an ambitious play for the Inner Circle, the only reason they would attempt a high risk op like this is if they believed either a person on board was important enough to capture or something valuable onboard was worth taking. The question of which of them it was and for what purpose it would serve the enemy as of now eluded the Lieutenant. "So what's is so important that Makarov would want you boys to hijack a whole aircraft? What are you guys after and why?"

"All I know it's for one of the dignitaries on board."

What happened next actually surprised Ghost; Gertrud spoke in the most intimidating tone the Task Force operator had ever heard. "Which one?!" she snapped.

"Boris Vorshevsky!" came the man's terrified reply.

Ghost blinked at the response. "Vorshevsky? The Russian President?" It seemed confusing at first, until Ghost reasoned that maybe it's to prevent the summit from taking place."

"Da, he is our target for capture."

"Why is he so important? Unless it's to prevent the Peace Summit from taking place and extending this war..."

Pike hesitates again. "I don't know."

"Bollocks!" Ghost spat. "Tell us the whole thing mate..."

Gertrud draws the man closer and raises her fist in a threatening manner. "Either you tell him; or I will beat you into a pulp until whatever's left wouldn't even fill a can of soup!"

"I believe you but I know nothing more than that! I was never told by Makarov why the President is vital to his plans, only for my men and I to capture him!"

Scope suddenly gets a troubled look and steals a glance outside the nearby window. After a moment she draws a small, tattered curtain and turns to her squad mates. "We've got company guys. Four vans and two SUV's, lotta armed guys piling out; about twelve plus foot mobiles."

Roach and Toad look to Yuna in surprise."What?" they ask in surprised unison.

Even if slightly nervous Pike manages a grin. "Looks like they know of your raid on my men and I. One thing about being Makarov's associate: you get exclusive perks." He clicks his teeth together, trying to demonstrate what he meant. "Your time is up, even with that freak of a girl with you, your as good as dead."

Ghost comes to a realization. "Satellite tracking chip in your teeth..." he mused. "Clever." Ghost turns to his squad and give them their tasks. "We've got what we could get, time to close up shop kids." Gertrud shoves the Russian man from her grasp and retrieves her weapon from her back. The rest of the squad silently nod in affirmative and ready up as well. Ghost looks down at codename Pike and retrieves his silenced Glock 18 from his holster. "This is where we part ways, Pike. For good."

"You can run if you can, but you'll just die tired. You will never stop the Inner Circle, Makarov's plans will bring us victory! The western powers will be destroyed... and my men and I will be blessed with full wallets of money to spend as we see fit!" Pike goaded the Task Force as they prepared to move out.

As Scope passed Ghost and Pike, she turns to the Russian with a look Gertrud couldn't quite describe, one that indicated that she knew something. Ghost racks the slide of his sidearm and lets the weapon hang at his side. "To bad you won't be around to see it, or get paid for that matter... no loose ends mate..." His hand raises smoothly to Pike's head and in an almost casual manner he depresses the trigger of his machine pistol. A single round from the Glock travels directly between Pike's eyes, a perfect looking hole now appears in his forehead. Blood spatters onto Ghost's hand and pistol from performing the close range execution and the barrel of the pistol is smoking.

Gertrud blinked, staring at the now executed Russian before her. After Ghost pulled the trigger she wasn't sure how she should feel about this. She had taken human life before, but it was her first time seeing an actual execution up close. Such practices were rare back in her world. Toad, Roach and Scope move out into the hallway and get ready to move on the Lieutenant's orders. Ghost turns to Trudy and nudges her shoulder.

"You did pretty well luv, but now we're Oscar Mike."

Gertrud looked to Ghost, watching him holster his pistol and switching the safety of his M4A1 off. She flicks the safety of her MG36 off and nods. No time for thinking, only to do what was necessary. She was a soldier after all.

"Understood."

Trudy followed behind the Task Force down the corridor with Roach leading on point. Midway through the corridor, Gertrud notices Toad stick a claymore in an adjacent doorway and sticks a nearby, tattered newspaper over it. A hastily made trap to slow their pursuers. The sound of footsteps slowly come into earshot from far behind them. Upon reaching the far end of the building Ghost notices a decrepit fire escape outside a window, leading several stories up and down.

"Everyone onto the fire escape and get to street level. Roach, your first."

Roach opens the window and steps onto the fire escape, soon followed by Toad, both men descending the old metal stairs to the street below. As Scope's turn to step out of the building comes up with Ghost and Trudy on either side of her, an explosion his heard from back down the hall, followed by bleating and voices. Likely a few enemy casualties from that claymore.

Yuna pauses, looking back down the hall in the direction of the explosion. "Sounds like they're close."

"And that's exactly why we better get the lead out." Ghost puts in.

"Right."

A pair of lights suddenly shine down the hall, two men with Submachine guns drawing close. One of the men speaks the moment the trio is spotted. "Contact! Hostiles-" Faster than Gertrud's eyes could track, Scope's SR-25 snaps up and fires at the two men, one round entering into each mans eye; one man in his right the other in his left. Both men drop to the ground hard.

Once her targets are dropped Scope nods to the Lieutenant. "See you on deck." She slips through the window and moves swiftly down the fire escape. Ghost motions Gertrud next and then follows her as more voices echo through the corridor. The old metal stairs creek and shift under the feet of the operators as they make their escape. The ladder to the pavement below gets lowered by Roach and each member slides down with ease save for Gertrud, who had to climb quickly down each rung. Once street level they got their feet on the ground Ghost orders them down an ally way where the van was sitting. They move quickly and manage to reach the vehicle and pile in with Roach at the wheel.

Once inside Roach turns to the Lieutenant. "What's the plan now?"

"They'll be after us, we better lose em and get back to the airport. Once we get on the plane we can link up with the Captains."

Roach gets the van in gear and punches the gas just as bullets stitch their way into the back of the van. The roaring engine and squealing tires fill the street and the van roars out onto the main road. Time was going to be against the Task Force from this night on. Too much was happening and the 141 had only just scratched the surface.

* * *

><p>The man and his comrades had finally gotten bedded down for the night, after a long day of patrols and confronting infidels. It was finally his turn to keep watch tonight, a guerrilla fighter in his mid thirties who had seen several years of battle in the desert sands. While he was up he watched the night sky for a while as his buddies were asleep. It was peaceful this night, though it would be peaceful still were it not for the NATO coalition forces that they so bitterly despised. To them the American's and British were a symbol of Capitalist greed, decadence and evil, and Israel a bitter enemy by blood. The man came from a poor family, struggling to get by in life and etch out a living on meager pay that could barley sustain his wife and eight children. How was it fair what he had to break his back to make nearly nothing while the Western powers could possess so much excess and yet still want more? It had angered and offended him. So much so that he now fights with men willing to kill and die to bring an end to such injustices.<p>

He sat upon a sand bar while his two dozen fellow warriors had bedded down from behind the technical's, a truck and a jeep serving as protection. Only he and one other man, a younger man whose family was caught in the crossfire of brutal Urban Warfare between American Marines and the OpFor, were currently standing watch. The night was pitch black, with the only thing illuminating the night being the stars, the campfire and a small kerosene lamp the man kept at his side. He kept watching the horizon, making sure the evil agents that he swore to kill in Allah's name wouldn't be upon him and his comrades.

He removes the magazine of his AK-74 and checks the rounds he had. Currently he was fully topped up, ready to fight when the enemy shows his face. Satisfied, he returns the magazine into the weapon and returns his gaze to the horizon. After a moment he notices movement in the sky, though it's barely noticeable. He can't quite make out what it is so he retrieves the binoculars laying next to him and tries to get a better look at the object. Despite the enhanced range of vision provided to him by way of his binoculars he still can't identify what the object is. The object seems to move with great speed. He calls out to the younger man on watch.

The younger man hustles over to the older man, asking what's wrong. The older man points to the sky and explaining what he sees, but the younger man seems confused. He follows the man's finger and strains to see where this supposed object is. The pointing man gestures emphatically at the object, even bringing the younger man's head next to his own to follow his line of sight. The young man strains but at last sees the object, only now it has gotten much closer. The object fly's overhead and passes over them. The young man asks in Arabic if it was a drone, but the older man isn't sure. The man yells to the slumbering men to wake them up when suddenly a large impact engulfs the jeep, waking the sleeping members of the group of armed fighters.

As shouting and yelling continues the older man and his younger companion notice a large object that seemed to have four legs... something they had never could imagine seeing before. The object is resting atop the crushed jeep, it's body slowly raising up off the twisted, flattened metal carcase until it rests at its full height of about twelve feet. The awakened men, ranging between forty and sixty years in age, quickly grab their respective weapons consisting of black market Russian weapons and knockoffs and open fire. The bullets fired by the men seem to have little effect on the strange object, which began to take slow, methodical steps towards the men on foot and making a ominous clanking as it walked. One of the men runs for a technical and mounts the fifty calibre machinegun on the back of the old pickup truck. Fifty calibre bullets hit the machine; by now the man was certain that is what it was, leaving it somewhat staggered.

Quite suddenly an ear piercing shriek stabs at the man's ears, prompting the man and his companions to stop shooting and cover their ears in pain. A reddish-pink glow emanates from a cylinder-like appendage on the machine as it takes aim at the truck with the heavy machinegun and man operating the gun. A sudden flash of light shoots out from the machine and envelops the truck, the only thing left is a charred chassis with blown tires. The body and the man on the machinegun is gone. Vaporized. The men scream in terror and start to scatter. The young man recoils in horror and starts firing at the "thing" while retreating. The man with the AK-74 stairs dumbstruck at whatever is now killing his group of comrades. Another flash of light and two more men disappear, then another engulfs the other technical. The man looks around to find something that could kill the machine... no... demon... and spots the RPG-7 resting next to a crate of provisions. As the demon fires at the truck next, he runs to the RPG and grabs hold of it.

The man readies the RPG and takes aim at the monster as it kills another five men who are unlucky enough to get caught in the blast of light. The man takes aim at the demon, shouts a battle cry that claims this kill in the glory of his god, then fires. The rocket screeches out of the tube and impacts the side of the demon of metal and light. The man breaths heavily, a smile crossing his face at destroying the demon.

Or so he thinks at first...

Once the smoke and sand cloud dissipate the man's eyes widen, the spent RPG tube in his hands lowers slightly. The metal demon has sustained considerable damage: a hole with a strange, small gem-like object resting inside it, but it still stands and moves. It turns to face the man with the RPG and roars angrily. The man stands shakily, stumbling and backing away from the Juggernaut that had to have come from the pits of hell. When the demon is facing directly at him it fires a shot. The man's body disappears in the flash of light, his flesh, bones, organs, cloths and weapons vaporized by the intense laser beam. The metal creature slowly regenerates the damage it has sustained and moves to pursue and destroy the retreating humans that are left. It knows that they will be no match for its power, skill and knowledge.

The humans of this world will stand no chance against the power of its race...

* * *

><p><strong>Hello everyone. I'd like to take this time to apologize for not updating in a while, I had to take an unplanned hiatus to take care of some things IRL, ranging from finding some employment and dealing with some other issues that came up with little warning. Hopefully with the posting of Chapter 24 the story can continue, and I thank you so much for your patience. <strong>

**I would also like to take the moment to assure my readers and followers that WR141 will be seen through to it's very end, and I have no intention of leaving this story unfinished. I'm in it for the the long haul, so get ready for another chapter on the way. I hope that my story continues to entertain you and that we can all see what other missions, adventures and danger that our hero's will have to contend with in the future. **

**Ready up everyone, the next mission is about to begin...**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hello everyone! This was a long time coming but Chapter 25 is now complete and ready for reading. I kind of got carried away while my mojo was flowing so this Chapter is probably the longest I've written thus far. Hopefully I can try and establish some sort of standard cut-off limit to pace myself and keep the story from getting bogged down. Again, sorry for the delay but hopefully the amount of narrative in this chapter and it's over all quality will more than make up for it.**

**A few things to add; first off I'd like to thank everyone once again for their patience and patronage. To all the readers out there who are worried that WR141 may have died or may not be continued; I will again give my assurances that I intend to work through this story, and the reason for this is simple:**

**I love writing.**

**Writing provides me with great joy and passion, and in a similar vein I feel happy and fulfilled when I see other people read and talk about what I write. What's more I am a fan of both Strike Witches and COD, although Strike Witches is my greatest love, simply because it is the only Anime that I know of in my entire life where I am constantly thinking about it on a 24/7 basis: I love it that much. These two series speak to me; and in turn I wish to speak back to them respectfully in their language. Through researching the characters, worlds, cannon histories, the genre's and also all things regarding military history, culture, structure, strategy, tactics, weapons and ultimately the rules, laws and conventions of writing I seek to uphold the craft of the written word to the highest standard.**

**Well, with my inner writer done being channelled, the second thing I'd like to do is to give my thanks to F-14 Tomcat Lover for helping me out a while back by suggesting a character what will help serve as a segway into a key plot point in the story down the line, in addition to ghostwriting this characters intro to help get the ball rolling with him so many thanks be to Tomcat. I had plans for this plot point but didn't have a clue what sort of element to use to transition to this point so this character will really help down the line in that regard. **

**Also another big thanks to my friend and fellow writer blaze92x45 for allowing the me the honor and privilege of introducing one of his characters from the Clocktower into the WR141 verse. This character stands at the top of my list of favorite characters from the Clocktower, and I'll leave it to you guys to guess who it is. This particular character is going to be very fun to write, add a little flavor to the story and hopefully I will portray them as close to accurate as possible. **

**Also one final thing to let my readers in on is that even after the completion of WR141 (which won't be for many chapters still) it won't be an end of the verse. There will be another story that will continue where WR141 leaves off as well as a following sequel. Plus there are plans for an AU fic that both myself and blaze had brainstormed that to both of us feel would make an interesting scenario. I can't give much details but these are all plans that I intend to follow through with in due time, and I have ideas where they are going to go.**

**With that all out of the way, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, hooah?**

* * *

><p>Chapter 25<p>

**September 2nd – 16:33:19**

**Task Force 141 - Disavowed**

**Taiwan, Somewhere between Fuxing Township and Yuanshan Township **

**Tracking... Captain Soap MacTavish...**

It had to be said that the 141 was being hard pressed to prepare for the worst, with Price, Nikolai and Yuri out of country the day before, accumulating recourses to begin their mission to kill Makarov. Price first had to map out weapons depots, shops and trafficking routes with the two Loyalists getting all of this Intel in exchange for money to purchase the required weapons from Parrot's Beak, Guinea. While the trio were out of country taking care of business, the rest of the Task Force and the Loyalists were nestled away in the Taiwanese countryside, hidden in mountainous terrine. One thing that Nikolai was proving to be a god send at was having a place to lay-low until the heat blows over. What the Russian informant appreciated the most was establishing places to hide, the more the merrier; that just meant the bad guys would have a harder time trying to pin point where they were.

Soap had just woken from a restful sleep and was sitting on a chair resting on a balcony of the safe house. He takes time to look over his wounds, assessing the damage done to his body. When his hands glide across the bandages over his most severe injury it still felt painful, the stab wound he had sustained to his chest was still just beginning to heal. He would still need to rest for a while until it had healed enough for him to return to active duty.

After assessing his wound, Soap reaches for a cigar resting in his pants pocket and lights it, taking a long draw as he overlooked the compound. As he exhales his eyes rest on a gaggle of loyalists down below. Getting up from his seat he approaches the railing to get a better look at what was going on. In the middle of the gaggle of around fifteen men were two loyalists and Barkhorn. The three of them appeared to be doing push ups as the men that had gathered round were talking amongst each other and encouraging the trio, a few men even pulling out money to place bets.

One man was young looking, dressed in both his BDU tunic, slacks and a patrol cap. His face looked red and his features seemed like he was straining to keep up with the pair beside him, each cycle of push ups electing a fatigued grunt and his form was considerably lacking. The next in line was an older, more muscular man with a buzz-cut and in a T-shirt and the pants of his battle dress uniform. He looked well muscled: to the Captain it seemed likely that he lifted weights as part of his compulsory exercise regimen, probably did so in his free time too. He had maintained good form in his push ups and hardly seemed to be struggling. But the one who seemed to be excelling was the last in line: Gertrud was in full uniform with in her Kevlar vest, helmet and with filled load bearing gear. And somehow despite the weight she had on her she was going at it like she was wearing nothing at all.

After the five minute mark the younger loyalist was unable to continue, electing both groans and cheers from the gaggle of men, leaving his muscled comrade and the young witch left to compete as his comrades exchanged money. Gertrud's gaze shifts to the young man for a moment and she grins widely. "Is that all you can do? You need more discipline! The first rule of any Karlslander is discipline! Second is also discipline! Third, fourth, fifth and sixth are also discipline!" She continues her push ups, maintaining her pace with ease, while the muscular man just laughed. The pair continued as the younger man struggled to catch his breath.

One man in the gaggle turned to another once the hoopla died down enough for him to be heard. "It was clear that Kirli wouldn't last long. Ernov is strong, like bull!"

The man he spoke to, who currently stood adjacent to him, replies. "Da, but I didn't expect Valkyrie to maintain such a pace. Who's to say she wouldn't match 4th Squad's strongest man?"

"Bah! Kirli is one thing, but she can't compete with Ernov, it's no contest."

A third man speaks up with excitement. "Let's make this interesting: have a man lay on their backs as weight. If one of them can maintain their reps then they are the winner."

The first man's face lights up. "Sounds like a challenge!" He turns to the muscle bound Ernov. "What do you say, comrade?"

"Da, I like it!" He glances at Gertrud while continuing his push ups. "What do you think, little girl?"

Gertrud scoffs. "That's Captain to you. And I agree to these conditions. Bring us some volunteers!"

The first man nods. "Alright, any takers?" he asks, his head scanning the crowd of men.

Soap watches as a pair of men enthusiastically raised their hands and quickly approached the pair still conducting their reps. He takes a moment to look around the compound again and notices Roach and Ghost approaching from ground level, the Lieutenant carrying two cans of beer. They both stop before the balcony and Ghost raises one beer to eye-level, gesturing with it in a way that seemed to ask if the Captain wanted one. Soap nodded and the Lieutenant tossed the beer up to Soap, which he caught and opened.

"They're really going at it, aren't they?" Soap asked after taking a drink from the Budweiser.

"I'll say." Ghost replied. "Things have gotten pretty lively once they heard about what Barkhorn did to that car back in Germany. Now Nikolai's men want to see if it's true what we said about what we had claimed she is capable of."

Soap chuckled. "Is she now? Some of these claims seem a little unlikely." He knows that Barkhorn, Sanderson and Riley told him and the rest of the present members of the 141 of Trudy's world, what things were like there and just what sort of war was being fought, but to him it was still too fantastic to take at face value. Who could blame him?

Roach laughed. "Just keep watching the show sir, you'll see for yourself." Roach gestures over in the direction of the Karlsland witch as he wore a wry grin. "Check it out."

Once the human weights were selected the man who stood next to Ernov tipped over and landed promptly on the muscled man's back. Ernov grunted but continued his push ups with little trouble. The men cheered at the display of strength of their herculean comrade. The other man looked at Gertrud with reservation, hesitating a moment before slowly easing his way onto the girls back. She didn't even slow down in pace once his full weight rested upon her, the men quietly murmured to each other in surprise, amazed that she could carry the weight of a grown man with no difficulty.

While this was happening, Scope and Toad were watching from the back of a cargo truck. While they were going over inventory a while ago, the little contest that was going on provided them with a brief distraction. They and the rest of the Task Force, in addition to the Loyalists were captivated by what they were all seeing. After about twenty six reps Ernov looks over to Gertrud smugly. "Feeling tired yet?" he asked.

"Nien!" came a curt reply.

Ernov scoffed, despite the fact his forehead was sweating profusely due to excursion. "What say you to another man for weight? I doubt you can handle that!"

Gertrud's determination shone clearly as she responded. "You're on! Up the ante with two men each!"

Another pair of men volunteered and approached the two participants of this little contest of strength. While Ernov's second man was promptly laying on the first, Gertrud's second man took a moment to observe his comrade currently laying on her back with a questioning look. The first man nods and the second man quickly lays upon the first, all parties involved started to look like they were stacked logs of wood. After another forty plus push ups Ernov's pace had slowed considerably, his face was redder then a stop sign and his body sweating heavily. Gertrud meanwhile had only begun light grunts, but otherwise was maintaining her pace. The loyalists murmured again.

As her opponent continued to strain under the weight of two men, Gertrud shouted a question. "Which of your squad mates carries the most weight and gear?" She demanded. The men look puzzled, a few questioning each other about what the witch was getting at. "Beside's Ernov?" One man asks. "Well... I think our resident Juggernaut Zazar might fit that criteria. Why do you ask?"

"Get him geared up in full combat kit and on top of me as weight!"She barked. The eyes of every compound member widens; surely she wasn't serious in asking this?

Juggernaut armor was made up of a highly modified EOD suit that was retailored for direct combat thanks to a combination of multiple layers of Kevlar supplemented with ceramic plates and ballistic resistant jells, along with a specially designed helmet made of similar bullet resistant materials and a load bearing vest reinforced with Kevlar and fitted with a steel plate, in addition to EOD suit padding and arm, leg and shoulder armor. Such suits are more often utilized by major PMC's and wealthy Para-military groups for use as Heavy Assault Troops and IED/Ordnance Disposal in live fire zones and general shock troops to instil fear and aw, and are sometimes referred in slang as "Heavy's" or "Juggs". While EOD armor is standard equipment for an Explosive Ordnance Disposal Technician, Juggernaut armor was considered a luxury in military circles; it didn't come cheap. But as the old saying goes: "You get what you paid for." Nikolai and his men owned a small handful of such armor, around seven or eight and Zazar was the only one in the informants personnel roster to hold the position of Juggernaut as his permanent role in the unit. For everyone else it was a situational role to be taken on a case by case basis.

One of the men in the gaggle runs off briskly as both Ernov and Gertrud continue their push ups while both of them had a pair of men on their backs. About three minutes of sweaty reps later the man returns with a heavily armored man trudging slowly behind him. Juggernaut armor was known for being quick to take off but slow to put on, even the quickest and experienced operators had to have time to put the armor on properly. Sure, you could probably rush it, but EOD and Jugg armor needed to be put on a certain way to ensure each protective piece of the armor rested on a man properly. Half assed jobs could compromise the protection that the armor would normally provide; leave chinks, gaps and spaces that could be easily exploited by an enemy who could get a skilled and well placed shot on a Jugg... or if he was just lucky enough. To ensure survival as a Juggernaut Trooper, half of the equation dictates that you had to make sure your armor was well maintained and that you put in on properly. Not to mention you also had to train in the armor to get a feel for it and become familiar with wearing it while just standing and moving, let alone fight in it. Zazar was no different; it was just a lucky coincidence that Nikolai's resident heavy shock trooper was training in his gear when the runner came to get him. He had full gear and the pouches of his chest rig had full ammo, in addition to the sidearm in his leg holster and an M240B on his back that was acquired through black market channels. The heavily armored Loyalist lumbers towards his group of comrades, his armored helmet hiding his face. The words "Get Sum" in black, scrawled onto the groin guard of his armor with sharpie.

A muffled voice speaks out from the armored individual addressing the group. "What is it you want that's so damned important that you had to interrupt my training?!" To say he sounded somewhat annoyed at having been called over would had been an understatement..

One of the men gestures at Ernov and Gertrud. "We have a bet going to see who has the greatest strength, endurance and physical fitness to last in a push-up stress test."

"So? What is it that you need me for?" he questioned. He makes a gesture with his hands, turning them skyward at waist level, conveying that he wondered why his presence was of any relevance. Clearly it seemed that he believed that his training in full gear was worth most of his concern.

"Captain Barkhorn requested you while in full gear. Fortunate we caught you at a good time."

"And why was I requested?" Zazar asked, his tone guarded.

"She wants you to rest on her back while she does push ups in this little contest, while also laying on top of these two men who volunteered to be human weight." The two volunteers on Gertruds back seemed to grimace, anticipating the possibility of bearing the full weight of such a heavily armored man.

The Loyalist Juggernaut looks from the man to Gertrud, who was still keeping pace with Ernov, if not outpacing him. Zazar then looks back to the man. "You must be joking."

"It's no joke, she wants' you to mount her." A pair of men off to the side chuckle quietly to themselves, likely enjoying a double entendre going through their heads. Gertrud makes a mental note that those two men needed more discipline.

Ernov shakes his head. "Does she even know what she's asking? I may as well weigh a ton in this suit."

Another man speaks up. "Come on you bum, I've got 964 Rubles riding on this bet!"

The PMC's knew that money was what made the world go round, and the men enjoyed their occasional wagers. Being a kill joy, especially when money was involved, wouldn't win you many friends. The Loyalists were disavowed by their own government, so they had to pass the time, relive stress and make some coin somehow. Zazar takes another look at Gertrud, watching as she continues her reps while already being weighed down by two men. At this point, he was seeing something that was already in the realm of the improbable... still, he was going to remain resistant.

"Are you sure you want me on your back woman?" he asked the witch Captain.

"Hurry up and get to it already! Get on top of these other two men resting on me and look sharp while you're doing it!" Barkhorn snapped.

The armored man gazes at the witch Captain for a moment, then shrugs."You're funeral." The two men already on her back grimaced again and the youngest of the two whimpered as Zazar got into position and promptly flopped down on the three of them. Gertrud grunted and her pace was momentarily halted. The men that gathered round gasp or murmur in surprise. Both men on her back grunted and cursed at the extra weight now on top of them. However, to everyone's amazement, a bright blue glow emanated from her body and her familiar appears. She exhales sharply and continues her push ups once again. She may have started to sweat under the weight, but she was soon back to her original speed in reps.

Another five minutes went by and Ernov was starting to show further physical signs of fatigue, while Gertrud hardly seemed very winded. Bit by bit Ernov's reps were slowing and slowing. At last, the herculean Russian finally collapsed, panting heavily while the two men on top of him got off his back and started to check to see if he strained himself. Gertrud however continued on. The men in the gaggle murmured, some in disappointment as Russian Rubles changed hands. But the Karlslander didn't stop. She continued on, much to everyone's amazement.

As Soap watched his eyes widen and he almost dropped his beer. It was amazing for him to see an eighteen year old girl doing about 200 plus push ups while three men, one of which wearing Juggernaut armor, were laying on her back. After another fifty push ups the bright blue glow that emanated from Trudy intensified. Her final push up became heavily augmented; she pushed as hard as she could and suddenly became upright on her feet, the three men on her back, unprepared by her carrying out this sudden motion were forced off of her and fell backwards onto one another, the trio of men laying on the ground with Zazar being buried by the men he was originally on top of. Wearing a satisfied grin, her familiar retreating, Gertrud then approached the truck that Scope and Toad were sitting in the bed of.

Adjacent to the truck were a set of crates, resting up against them were Gertrud's Me109 Striker Unit. Scope and Toad watched with curiosity as she mounted the tallest crate and then lowered herself into the strikers pocket dimension. A blue glow emanated from the devices, a rune appearing on the ground that enveloped Gertrude that extended some seven feet around her. The features of her familiar appear again and Gertrud prepares to engage the striker's magic engine.

Scope shifts from one side of the trucks bed to the other, resting her arms on the edge of the truck while watching Gertrud. The Task Force sniper seemed awe struck by what she was seeing. The Ears and Tail of Gertruds Karlsland Wirehaired Pointer intrigued her the most. After taking a moment to inspect the features of Gertrud's Familiar, she ventures a question.

"So, whatcha doing exactly?"

Gertrud glanced over to her and smiled, a look of excitement and determination in her eyes. She had spent a little over a month meditating under Kotoro's patent guidance non-stop, recently she was starting to feel a subtle something that she couldn't quite place, and yesterday it only grew stronger. Yuna noted that it normally took longer for people to see much, if not any development spiritually. Either many months if not in fact years. The meditation exercises were working surprisingly well for the young witch, though the reason for this wasn't exactly clear; perhaps the fact Gertrud was an individual with an already strong spiritual gift that required an awakened consciousness? This morning the subtle feeling had become stronger still... perhaps now she could try what she was hoping to do once again. "A flight test. Now that I can use my magic again, I'm going to see if I can get my striker to fly!"

"You think it will work?" Scope sounded almost hopeful, as if she wanted to really see if the striker could let the young witch fly. Hearing about and seeing a fraction of what Gertrud was capable was fascinating to her. The question of wither Gertrud could actually fly may have seem to be mere fantasy but if it was true...

"We'll see." Gertrud shifted her gaze in front of her, still grinning as she began a pre-flight check of her striker. "Magic engine, engage!"

There is protest from the striker as the striker's engines sputtered and clunked. Gertrud's grin began to falter a little; usually the Striker's Magic engine would have engaged already. Then again, her world was rife in raw ether and magic, perhaps this worlds energy's would function differently? Maybe it wouldn't allow the magic-tech device that she so cherished to be fueled? Would she still be unable to fly? Or were the energies of this world just too weak? Or... was she still not ready yet? Gertrud, closed her eyes and tried to focus on getting ignition. Recalling what she had learned from Scope for the past month and couple days she tried to calm her mind and try again. Trying to call on the universes alleged energies to be drawn through her and into her striker.

As many eyes rested upon her, she stood in the striker calmly. She focused herself, until she felt a sensation that flowed through her from the center of her forehead, rushed down her spine and trickled into her Messerscharf. Her eye's snap back open. "Engage!" She ordered her striker again. Had she not have known better, Gertrud could have sworn that the striker unit seemed hesitant and maybe even a little moody. But with another bout of sputtering and coughing, a sudden backfire from the Verbrennungskraftmaschine belches ether saturated carbon from the exhaust, and the Bf109 Striker roars to life, ether propellers forming at the generator located at the very bottom of the striker and kicking up dirt and loose foliage from the ground thanks to the amount of air being produced. Gertrud's grin returns to full strength. Her strikers had power. She could once again fly. The feeling she had, deep in her heart... no words could describe how wonderful it felt... to still be a maiden of the skies... a soldier of Karlsland... a witch of the 501st... her hopes were now a reality. And she would cherish this feeling dearly; never again would she take her magic and strikers for granted.

Scope was looking down at the striker in amazement. Her mouth agape. As a women dedicated to growth of the human soul and the enrichment of the heart and mind; in pursuit to becoming an enlightened warrior... she was amazed to see that the device that Gertrud had explained to the Task Force that was the very vital means of fighting a dangerous, alien enemy was actually working. And she was up close to witness it for herself. To see the will and potential of the human spirit alongside the creativity of the human mind; the ingenuity of this strange technology. Both working alongside each other... becoming intertwined in an amazing union was something that seemed beyond incredible. "Wow, it really wor-"

"Take off!" Gertrud shot straight up. A sudden gust of air upsets the crates and the sudden movement startles Scope, sending her recoiling into Toad who had huddled up behind her in curiosity, Both operators come to rest at the other end of the trucks bed, both looking skyward as Gertrud was fast becoming an ever shrinking speck in the heavens, beginning several aerobatic maneuver's.

Scope blinked. "Holy shit..." an amazed laugh escaped her as she watched Gertrud become a small dot in the sky. " Did you guys all see that?! That was freaking sweet! It doesn't get any cooler then that! It's amazing! I love it! I love it! I love it!" She continued laughing, not able to help this unexplainable, bubbly feeling she felt deep in the very core of her being. Yet another amazing thing to add to her ever growing life experiences. You couldn't claim to have seen it all until you saw an eighteen year old Captain from another world tossing cars, bench pressing full-grown men and flying with propeller devices on her legs.

Toad's eyes stared skyward as his mouth dropped, too preoccupied with what had just happened to notice Scope resting on his lap and cackling like a hyena. "Well I'll be dammed. She can actually fly." The former Marine however, seemed more shaken then excited. "I gotta be dreaming... or hallucinating or something." Even despite the conflict of both scientific logic and Religious faith within him, what he was seeing now seemed to bend the very fabric of reality, if not outright break it. "I need a stiff drink..." he sighed.

Roach chuckled lightly and took a quick swig of his beer. "Well, she's airborne."

Ghost nodded. "Yup, haven't seen her that happy in a while. I'm just glad she's finally out of that funk she was in. This is the best moral boost she could ever get."

"Yeah, really warm's your heart doesn't it?"

"Ya getting all mushy on me, Roach?"

"Aw come on man, you telling me that doesn't get your heart strings tugging?" Roach asked, feigning disappointment. Ghost makes a grunt in response. However, Roach noticed that the Lieutenant's jaw shifted in a peculiar way. It was subtle, but he caught it. "Something the matter?" He questioned.

The Lieutenant turned his subordinate quizzically. "Hm? No, I'm alright. Just feeling glad things worked out for Valkyrie is all." Roach was noticing something a little odd about the Lieutenant, though he was clearly trying to hide it. Ghost was quick to pick up the intrigued gaze coming from his subordinate and frowned. "What? If you've got something to say then say it already mate."

Roach studies Ghost and moment, then slowly shifts his gaze nonchalantly and takes a swig from his beer. "Oh, just thinking is all, though of course, I could be wrong..."

Ghost cast a look of dull annoyance at the younger man, raising his beer to his mouth to take a drink. "Roach, quit beating about the bush and get on with it already."

Roach turned back to Ghost wearing a smug, toothy grin, pointing with his beer hand. "You getting a soft spot for Barkhorn, Lieutenant?" Ghost paused as the beer can came to his lips. His eyes narrowed on the tab on the can as he processed the Sergeant's question. Then he continued to take a drink from the beer can, taking a long chug of alcohol. Roach's grin weakens a moment. "Well, is it a yes? No?" Ghost lowers the beer can and exhales, not giving an answer. Roach scoffs and warps an arm around the Lieutenant's shoulder. "Come on Ghost, don't leave me hanging, what's happening up in your noggin? Do you like her or not?"

Ghost looks at Roach with a rather cold look in his eyes. "What, are you in high-school or something?"

Roach shot a look of mock pain."Oh, ouch, that hurts... seriously though, we can't shoot the shit like guys and talk about stuff? How crazy the worlds getting, how fucking corrupt politicians are getting, wither you fancy soccer or cricket, or wither a pretty girl catches your eye?"

Ghost cocks and eyebrow. "Why, you saying you like the young Captain or something?"

Roaches smile evaporates. "No, no... she's a tough girl and I respect the shit she helped us through, but that's it really. I don't really feel like that towards her." He looks away awkwardly as his mouth shifts while in thought. "Plus... someone else... that is..."

"You mean there's already a girl in your life?" Ghost asks, picking up Roaches hesitant mannerisms. The Lieutenant smiled despite himself; a little of the old Roach seemed to be showing up a little more as of late. Seemed like some of that "FNG" Roach was somewhere deep inside the Sergeant.

Roach shakes his head. "No, nothing like that really. But... I guess... I think she's important in my life. I guess you could say I like her."

"Oh really? Anybody I know?"

Roaches eyes shift away uncomfortably. "I'd rather not say if it's alright..."

Ghost shrugged. "Well, if you say so, but if you're hoping to ask for dating tips then your barking up the wrong tree mate."

"No girl back home waiting for ya?" the younger man asked raising an eyebrow.

"Nope. Only thing in my life is my service." Ghost takes another drink and looks over to Roach, seeing a look of sympathetic pity on the younger man's face. "Hey, what's that look for?"

"You don't get lonely sometime's mate?" he asks, giving the Lieutenant a genital nudge.

Ghost draws a short sigh. "I manage... besides, I don't think I'm boyfriend material."

"Bullshit man. You were SAS, surly you had girls clamoring to hook up with you."

Ghost laughed, even despite the momentary memory of what Roba and even his own father put him through surfacing and receding again. Roach may have meant well, but Simon knew that the younger operator wouldn't understand. Ghost's head wasn't exactly running proper; what girl would want to latch onto a major head case like him? Even the young, idealistic girls who believed in "healing broken winged birds" would have little to do with him if they had two minutes with him, if even that. Ghost knew better then to think otherwise, he had to be realistic about the facts. And the fact was: while he was, as his mother had once put it: a handsome looking guy and a good man, and a few girls he brushed arms with had a thing for his voice, Simon knew that even if he wanted to and tried to find a girl in his life, it sure as hell wouldn't last. He figured most girls would be frightened off by him once they got close and talked with him, those who didn't would likely get discouraged with his baggage and call it off, and those that may want a more long term relationship probably wouldn't last. Plus, thanks to some of the shit Roba did to his head, Ghost still worried that he might accidently hurt a women who would try to get close, wither it was through his words or his actions, and he wasn't willing to take the chance of letting that happen. "Yeah, yeah, Roach. Whatever you say."

Roach continues on, now lost in his memories. "I knew guys back then who'd get all kinds of girls to spend time with. Dates, flings or just a one night stand." Roach rolled his eyes. "I never did hear the end of it when word got around that I wasn't too good around women. They would have started calling me "Strike Out Sanderson." were it not for that one mission. As embarrassing as it was, I'd rather be called Roach then have people calling me Strike Out... I'd sure as hell never live that down. Dogged a major bullet man, no joke."

Quite suddenly the sound of Gertrud's striker unit is heard at a distance but fast approaching. Looking skyward Ghost can see a small speck in the sky growing larger and larger. The next thing he knows Gertrud breaks hard and comes to rest just in front of him in a rush of air. Nikolai's men point and gawk at the girl who had descended from the heavens, amazed at what their eyes had witnessed. Looking eye to eye with her, Ghost just had a small grin, his eyes holding a look of amusement from behind his balaclava. Gertrud had a look of satisfaction, contentment and peace. Her striker's engines idled as she hovered in front of the British Lieutenant.

Ghost hummed lightly."Having fun Captain?" he enquired.

Gertrud scoffed and nodded. Presently she looked up to Captain MacTavish who was still on the balcony. "Captain, may I have permission to borrow the Lieutenant for a moment?"

Ghost's smile disappears, and Roach looks questioningly at the older operator with a look of confusion. Ghost's eyes fixate on the look in Gertrud's eyes. He was starting to get a bad feeling "Hm? Borrow me for what?" he asks, but receives no answer.

Soap blinked. All hesitation and reservations as to Barkhorns true nature was now gone: he could now see for himself that she was the real deal. He had to be arrogant to think that this was all some sort of insane dream; Gertrud really was a witch. The only other thing going through his mind was why she wanted Ghost... but judging from what he had heard of what she was capable of and seeing evidence to back it up, he somehow felt inclined to give her what she wants. He definably had to tell Price about this whole thing once he, Nikolai and Yuri returned, though he doubted they would believe him or anyone else on the grounds of the safe house. "Um... sure, I suppose." he said at last, sounding a little stand offish.

Ghost's guard was already up, looking up to the Captain in disbelief. "W-wait, Soap-"

Gertrud grabs Ghost by his Tactical jacket as her grin widens. "Well, that's that; come along Lieutenant."

"Now hang on here!" he starts to object, but Gertrud's strikers suddenly start to roar for takeoff and Ghost could feel Gertrud's hand starting to pull him. "H-hey, wait just a bloody-" his voice is cut off as he is yanked through the air, his feet leaving the grass and his hand losing its grip on his beer can, the aluminum drink container falling to the ground. "JEASUS CHRIST!" Ghost then found himself flying through the air several meters above the ground whole being held aloft by Gertrud.

Roach looked down at Ghost's beer can laying adjacent to him, laying sideways and spilling what little alcohol there was left onto the ground. He looks back over to the sight of Ghost getting carried off to the tree line by Gertrud while Ghost was yelling and ordering to be put down before the Karlsland witch dropped him, watching the witch make a slow roll as her unwilling passenger bleated, cursed and flailed during the aerobatic maneuver. Roach then looked directly ahead of himself, looking bewildered.

"What the fuck was that about?" he asked no one in particular, then took along drink of his bear. Two men close by, apparently thinking the same thing, exchanged bemused looks and shrugged. Zazar, muttering Russian in frustration, pushed his way through the pair of men and through the door they stood in front of to return to his training. Oblivious of the Juggernaut passing behind him, Roach shuddered and looked down at his beer in disgust. "Urgh, this tastes like warm piss! Where the hells the good stuff?"

* * *

><p><strong>501st Witches Base, Romagna<strong>

**1059hrs**

**Tracking... Ensign Francesca Lucchini...**

"Shirley, do you know what Minna wants us to do today?"

Shirley looked to Francesca and gave the younger girl a warm smile. "We're in luck, we're going to be going some training with a few of the Tame witches today. Apparently the 78th is getting some new witches in to get their strength up."

"Ah, cool, that means more people to have fun with! Maybe there's a few with some big boobies!"

Lucchini laughed in excitement. She loved getting to fly in her strikers. Normally, she disliked training, but today in her fickle flights of fancy she felt excited to fly with the new girls from the 78th Tame Witches. It was fun to fly through the sky and to feel the wind in her face. That, and it would give her a chance to evaluate the other girl's "assets". Even being a magical prodigy, she was still a child, the youngest member of the 501st. Not many other fighter wings had witches quite as young in their front line units, but Lucchini was one such witch amongst a small handful that fell under such a demographic. The youngest of the strike witches; one of humanity's youngest soldiers of magical aptitude.

While she and Shirley were walking to the hanger she couldn't help but think about James and his fellow Rangers. They may have been a little weird at first, but she soon came to like them. She liked James Ramirez the most: he was fun. Thinking to when she and the other girls had a chance to talk with them was an interesting experience, they even made training a little more entertaining. Ghost was a little creepy so she always kept a good distance from him, and Roach, while an alright guy, didn't catch her interest very much, but the Ranger's were at least fun to hang out with. She couldn't help but laugh giddily.

Shirley noticed the little Romanians' laugh and turned to the young girl questioningly. "Hey, Francesca? What's so funny?"

"Shirley, do you remember when we all got to hang out with the Ranger's that one time?"

"Which one?"

Despite the Raven haired girls good mood it was still weird to her why their world seemed so different. She would almost go so far as to think it was scary... but she was glad that Ramirez and the Ranger's were nice people. There were quite a few times both she and Shirley, even the other witches, had a chance to have a good time with the Rangers. "You know! The one where we had a little fun with them that one time!"

The Liberion girl turned thoughtful as she recalled the moment Lucchini was talking about. "Oh yeah, I think I remember it."

* * *

><p><em>James and his fellow Ranger's were working out by the obstacle course, more specifically on a small area adjacent to it that was made into a weight training area for the base personnel. With his helmet, load bearing vest and Tunic off to the side, the young Ranger was using what would be considered an antiquated bench press. Working out with weights helped keep muscle well toned and conditioned. Helps build muscle fibers. While he was exercising, Foley and Dunn were similarly dressed with most of their gear cast to one side. Foley was working on his chin ups and the Corporal was conducting a weight exercise that focused on his core. <em>

_As Ramirez prepared himself under the barbell he focused his gaze on the weight he had. 150lbs of weight. Dunn looks over to the younger man while still conducting his exercise. "Hey, you want me to spot you dude."_

_"Naw man, I think I'm good. I'll let you know if I need a spotter."_

_Dunn nodded. "Aright, just be careful man. Yoshika and Lynne are out getting food so if you end up hurting yourself then your shit out of luck in terms of healing magic." He shot a lopsided grin while working out. "You break something then there's no white mage to fix you up."_

_Foley smirked. "Looking to prove something Private." he asked heartily._

_"Just to myself Sarge." Ramirez exhaled a steady breath and murmured to himself. "Alright then..." He got a firm grip on the bar and begun lifting it up off the old bench-press. With the full weight of the barbell he was about to start when a sudden flash of movement leaps over him, one blur was orange and the other black, startling him and his NCO's. His interrupted rep causes his arms to momentarily loose bracing on the bar, which in the end, causes the heavy weights to wind up weighing down heavily on his chest. The amount of pressure on his sternum and ribs was starting to hurt him as he struggled beneath the heavy weights. "S-shit! Spot me!" he hissed. "SPOT ME!"_

_"HOLY FUCK!" Dunn halts his exercise and bolts over to Ramirez and the bench-press, helping the young ranger lift the bar back into place in the dumbbell holders. As Ramirez gets up the Corporal checks the Private over. "Are you alright dude?"_

_"Y-yeah, I'm good. But what was that though?"_

_Another flash of something leaps over the bench-press causes both men to jump. A laughing pair of voices rings out as James and Dunn became quick to recognize who the voices belonged to. Shirley and her little partner in crime, Lucchini, were laughing loudly. Dunn let loose a weary sigh as both girls were laughing in hysterics. The rangers on the other hand, weren't nearly as jolly, with Foley being the most blatant in this regard, and James looked physically shaken. Foley promptly dropped to his feet and spoke with stern authority._

_"For Christ sake, didn't you two girls notice the barbell Ramirez was holding!? That could have messed the Private up pretty damn bad, pulling a stunt like that! This isn't a damn playground!" David "Sean" Foley was fiercely protective of the men beneath him, and both Jake and James were no exception. David knew Jake for a few years in the service, and James had seen enough action to be seen as a battle hardened Ranger in his eyes. Horseplay like this was something that the older man wasn't about to let fly. "Both of you get your heads on straight and show some common sense! Shit like that is how people get hurt."_

_Shirley however, seemed unfazed. She still wore a bright smile despite the tone the Sergeant took with her. "Hey, no worries, everything's A-OK, nobody got hurt so it's all good." She waved her hand in a cheery, dismissive manner. The buxom Liberions attitude was starting to rub Foley the wrong way. Dunn had to avert his gaze awkwardly when he noticed the Liberion girls breasts bounce as she laughed. Though he tried to avoid leering at the underage Liberion girl, he couldn't help but catch the occasional sideways glance despite knowing better._

_James was in clear disagreement with Shirley's thoughts on the matter as he sat up and made his protest. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack at twenty years old?! I could have gotten hurt from that stunt!" After a pause he wonders what could have possessed the pair of trouble makers to do something like that. "What the hell was that all about anyways?"_

_Lucchini jumped up and threw her arms up into the air in excitement. "A Contest!" she answered. "Shirley is the fastest witch in the wing, and because we both work together in battle, we decided to challenge each other! I want to be as fast as Shirley, that way no Neuroi can touch me!"_

_James had a look of consideration as he took in what the young Romanian girl had just told him. "Sounds well and good, but next time you guys decide to do something like this: I'd appreciate NOT being a human hurdle, especially not while I'm using weights. Weights landing on my head would be really bad for my health."_

_Yeager's face took a guilty, sheepish look while wearing a weak smile. "Yeah, I guess you're right. We'll try to avoid doing that again." She turned to the younger girl and strengthened her smile. "Right Francesca?"_

_The younger witch looked pouty for a moment, but after looking over at James she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay, okay, whatever. The Wing Commander might get mad at me if I did that again anyways." _

_"Damn right you won't!" Foley put in. "If you think Major Sakamoto is a hell of a task master, you'll be in for the eight hours of "you ain't seen nothing yet" if you pull shit like that again. Is that clear?!" _

_Both girls snapped to attention once Foley's voice barked at them. They quickly realized even if Foley was a Sergeant, that he really meant what he said. The tone he took and the look in his eyes was warning enough that they take the warning seriously. "Roger!" They both replied._

_The three Rangers sighed deeply, both Foley and Dunn returned to their exercises. Ramirez meanwhile decided against using the barbells again, so he walked off to the wall where his rifle lay and retrieved it, hoping to. Spotting his M4A1, Lucchini rushed over to him with excitement shinning in her eyes. "Oh! It's the cool rifle again!" Lucchini hung off of the Private's arm as her eye's traveled up and down the weapon James had held. She turned to Shirley and called her over. "Shirley, Shirley, come look at this gun! It's the cool one that James told me about!"_

_"Oh yeah? Let's have a look then." Shirley. approached James and eyed his M4A1 with interest. After giving the rifle the once over she looked up to James, wearing a wide smile that beamed at him. "Are you going to give it a shot or two?"_

_James sighed and removed the 30 round magazine that was in the magazine well and waved it in his hand. "Only one mag for practice. I already shot ten rounds off from it the day before, got 20 rounds left so I gotta make them count, limiting myself to ten rounds for practice. The rest in my webbing are for combat only."_

_Lucchini suddenly jumped and pumped her arms in excitement. "Oh, James! Could you teach us how to use it? Could you, pretty please?" she begged. She got to hold the M4A1 two days before, now she hoped that she could get the opportunity to learn how to use the rifle in question._

_Shirley eyed the M4A1 hungrily, clearly wanting to get a chance to see the M4A1 perform up-close."Hey, I like the sound of that. How about it Private?"_

_"Um..." James was at a loss. It was a tough enough job dealing with __Francesca bugging him to see his rifle, but now the younger girl had Yeager providing backup for her. James eyed to two girls warily, then turned to the Sergeant with a questioning look."What do you think Sarge?"_

_Foley waved his hand dismissively. "That's completely up to you Private. You're a professional and those two are battle tested in their field when the chips are down, so you're free to handle the situation any way you think."_

_"Really? No orders? I can choose what to do on my own initiative?" James asked, genuinely surprised._

_"Well if you really want an order then I'll make you feel better; RAMIREZ! I ORDER YOU TO MAKE A DECISION!" _

_Dunn busted his gut laughing at the faux order that the Sergeant gave while the older Ranger gave a smug smirk. Catching on to the Sergeant's brand of humor, Ramirez raised his free hand and spoke in mock despair. "Oh no: the Sarge is giving me my free will! Hell has frozen over! The chain of command is dead, gone and fucking buried! It's an apocalypse of epic proportions! What will this poor little Mexican boy ever do to survive?!" Both Shirley and Lucchini burst into laughter. They were really getting a kick out of the Rangers of Hunter-2-1. _

_Foley scoffed. "Are you finished?" _

_"Now I am." Ramirez turns to the girls and looks them over for a minute. Once he's done he shrugs. "Okay, I can give you girls a familiarization course, show you something new. How's that sound?" Both girls cheer in response, to which Ramirez laughs. "Alright then calm down." He retrieves his Kevlar and places it on his head and smiles. "Okay girls, lets hit the range and you can see how this baby will do."_

* * *

><p>Lucchini turned to Shirley wearing a large smile. The day she and the Liberion learned how to operate an M4A1 was exciting to her. She got to see and even have a chance to try a new weapon. It was an accurate, mobile, adaptable weapon system, and compared to the M1919A6 it was insanely light. The one thing she thought was a complete drag was that the standard magazine had a thirty round capacity. Shirley didn't mind it, seeing as it was an improvement over the BAR that she used that took twenty round magazines, except perhaps for the custom forty round mags that she made on her own time which she stock piled enough of for engagements lasting about five to ten minutes. Lucchini meanwhile found that the M4A1 ran out of bullets too quick, at least the M1919A6 had a huge ammo box to carry 30cal ammunition. James did tell both her and Shirley that there were custom magazines that were called "Beta C Double-drum-magazines" that could hold 100 rounds and something that was invented that could allow two magazines to be clipped together for a quick change once one magazine was empty, but seeing as the ammo crates didn't have any C-mags and only a few of these specialized "Fast-Mag Clips" were supplied to them she was still torn on the issue a little bit.<p>

When both girls enter the hanger, they see that it's full of activity; the new girls who were fresh recruits for the 78th Tame Witches, with Captain Clotilda Marwick giving the new recruits some words of wisdom for surviving combat against the Neuroi. With the 78th now officially activated for active duty and what with some of the previous girls being WIA in battle against the Neuroi, Marwick needed new body's to get the units overall strength back up. Because of the 78ths active status they were re-located to the 501st Joint Fighter Wings base for the sake of battlefield logistics. The mechanics meanwhile were hard at work ensuring that the striker units were in proper working order, and a pair of soldiers and a scientist from Ursula's team were studying and trying to get familiar with four tables worth of weapons provided by Sergeant Foley. Lucchini was more interested in the new girls; her eye's traveled from witch to witch in excitement until she saw a girl who was at the back of the group and who appeared to have the largest bust. Wriggling her fingers and raising her hands to chin level she stealthily approached the girl from behind, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. Once she got directly behind the girl she pounced, her hands roughly groping her unwitting victim.

The girl gave a terrified yelp, grabbing the attention of her fellow new recruits. The Captain looks sternly around the squad at the sound of the sudden cry. "What the hell is going on; who the hell just interrupted me?! I'm talking here!"

"M-m-mamm, please make it stop! Someone's doing things to me!" The groped girl wails as Lucchini inspected the girls chest with her hands.

After a moment a dull look crossed the young Romagnan. "Ah man... their just barely average. I've seen way better boobs then this! I could have sworn they were bigger." Lucchini's hands then found their way into the girls shirt to try and feel out the other girls bust, electing a horrified shriek that grabbed the attention of the Mechanics and the trio going over the American weapons. Lucchini had a look of outrage form on her face upon making a terrible discovery. "Oh, you're kidding me! A push up bra!? No wonder they seemed bigger than they were! I've been tricked!"

As the rest of the other twelve new recruits looked on with flummoxed expressions, the Lieutenant's face turned a healthy shade of pink, but with a stern face she began to intercede. "E-ensign Lucchini! Stand down! Stop molesting that girl this second!"

Lucchini's hands left the groped girls chest. The girl in question then hid her bust with her arms and started wailing to her squad mates at how the younger girl had touched her. One of the girls turned to the Romagnan looking baffled. "What the hell was that?! Why did you just do that to her?!"

Lucchini shrugged. "I wanted to see how big she was. She's not really that big, so that really sucks. Still can't believe that I was fooled by the push up bra. I mean why would she even need one?! She hardly has anything to push up!" Her eye's wandered over to the girl questioning her and gave her the once over. "What about you, let me see ya for a sec!" She quickly pounced on the girl and grabbed her chest.

The girl she was molesting; a corporal, gave a surprised shout in protest as the Ensigns hands were groping her. "Meeyah! No! No! S-stop that!" She tried to shake off the younger girl, but Lucchini was moving like a fish to avoid being thrown off. The Corporal turns to her fellow new recruits with a pleading look. "Get her off of me!"

The other girls quickly moved to remove Lucchini from the Corporal, but the moment one of them grabbed the small girl, she would immediately glom onto and grope whoever grabbed her, which then elected shrill cries of surprise and moans of embarrassment from the victim before another girl grabbed the younger witch, which would then repeat the process anew. By the fourth time this happened the new recruits became increasingly hesitant in trying to advance upon Lucchini for fear of being groped next. The reactions of the male personnel in the hanger meanwhile ranged from looks of slack jawed shock, a few grins of amusement, but most of the men were trying to avert their eyes at something else with their faces turning red at the display of the young Ensign assaulting the busts of the new recruits in the Tame Witches.

Captain Marwick finally lost patience. She turned to Shirley and barked an order in exasperation. "Captain Yeager! Get the Ensign under control effective immediately before I have to take disciplinary action!"

Shirley laughed in response. "Heh, heh, she's a handful isn't she Captain? Your only young once." She then gave a smug look directed at Clotilda. "Besides it's getting that serous about stuff like that isn't going to be very healthy for you, ya know."

Clotilda Marwick's face shifted into a tired look of exasperation, her form then drooped and she had an exhausted look. "Captain... please... can you get her under control? I have to brief the girls and I can't when she's pulling this nonsense."

Shirley turned to Francesca who was currently feeling up another of the girls, a young airmen that was just about the Romagnan's age and just shorter than the raven haired girl. This new victim was actually crying tearfully as Lucchini was touching her undeveloped bust, lamenting that Lucchini called her "a cutting board chest". Shirley spoke with an upbeat tone. "Alright kiddo, you can leave these girls be. You've had your fun."

"Okieys! Most of these girls are barley even close to winning a consolation prize anyway." The raven haired Strike Witch danced away from her victim and leaped into Shirley's ample breasts. "Ah that's better! Big and soft and bouncy!" The other girls of the Tame Witches looked heavily disheveled and exhausted from having to deal with Lucchini's sudden mass groping.

The youngest weeping girl was being consoled by a witch who cradled her, trying to softly comfort the small girl. The girl doing the consoling shot a dirty look at Lucchini. "What the bloody hell's the matter with you anyway?! She's self-conscious about her body; what you said to her hurt her feelings!"

Lucchini's seemed about to say something when a voice caught everyone's attention. "Hey! Captain" Jenna approaches the group with a few of the old blood of the 78th who were healed and allowed out of the infirmary and looks over the new recruits for the tame witches. Jenna was quick to notice them looking fatigued, disheveled and once she was done looking them over she looks over to Marwick. "So is this the new batch? What did you do to them exactly mamm? They look like they've gone through the wringer."

The Captain frowns. "Nothing that I did, ask little miss grabby over there." She points over to Lucchini with a stern glare directed at the small girl. "It's hard to try and get things done around here with distractions like this".

Jenna blinks in confusion as she follows the Lieutenant's pointing finger to the raven haired Romangan. "Eh?"

Before Jenna can question anything the face of the youngest witch of the 501st lights up, her eyes fixating on the tank witch. "That's right! I never did get a chance to measure the Sergeant Major yet! Lemmie see!" Quickly slipping off of Shirley's breasts, Lucchini approaches the Tank witch and makes her move, groping the girls chest.

Jeena's eyes bulge at the younger girls attack on her bust. "Ahbuhwaba-WHAT THE FUCK?!" she demanded, completely beside herself at the sudden assault. The girls around her just stare at the spectacle, looking completely flummoxed.

"Squish, squish, squish!" Lucchini spoke absently as she continued "inspecting" the tank witch. As she felt the girls boobs out the little Romangan's face lit up with a broad smile. "It may not be even near as big but it's as soft as Shirley's!" She then buried her face in the Sergeant Major's chest and hummed contently. "They're like little pillows; so soft! When Shirley's away you'll do for a while but you better get bigger in the meantime!"

Shirley couldn't help but laugh at that; Lucchini always kept things fun around the base. She also found it interesting that while the Sergeant Majors chest was still outclassed in size by a wide margin in comparison to Shirley's large bust, that the Tank witch apparently had a comparable softness, at least to Lucchini's own eyes. Before she can muse over this Jenna's flabbergasted expression evaporated, replaced with a furious look. She grabbed hold of both of the smaller girls shoulders and lifted her off the ground to eye level. Shirley blinked as the little girls feet were kicking through the air as she bleated in surprise, face to face with the Sergeant Major.

Jenna's eyes narrowed at the small girl she held by the shoulders."Listen here Ensign! You may outrank me but rank doesn't give you a free pass to feel me up!" She snarled. "The only one touching these puppies is Darya and if you ever get the bright idea of pulling this shit again then you'll be having another thing coming!" She then drew the Romagnan closer until their noses were touching. "And if you even THINK about pulling the same thing with Darya then you're going to lose those damned hands of yours, is that clear!?"

Lucchini cried out at the tank witches threat. She nodded quickly and repeatedly as she spoke. "Okay, okay! I understand! Please let me down; I'll be good!" she cried.

"Damn right you will!" She dropped the small girl and adjusted her cleavage and uniform while mumbling in frustration. Once she adjusted herself she turned back to the Lieutenant. "Christ, no wonder everyone's looking haggard. That kid's enough to drive you to drink!"

As Lucchini scrambled back to Shirley, the Captain of the 78th Tame witches grins. "Good way to maintain control Sergeant Major. Just remember to bring that attitude with you when you fight the Neuroi, okay? No point wasting it on your fellow witches."

"No problem Clotilda; those damn aliens want a fight, I'll make em regret it; I'll kick their assess into the scrapheap." Her eyes shifted to Lucchini for a moment, who was now being shielded in Yeager's arms. "Providing we survive short stack over there."

"Good to hear it, maybe in the meantime we can get these girls whipped into proper shape." Clotilda turned back to the new recruits but before she could continue briefing the new girls, two of the young witches approach looking wide eyed and looking excited.

"Sergeant Major, thank you for putting the Ensign in order for us! She was doing bad things to poor Brinda!" The girl in question was a Witch from Australis, or at least it was discernible given the style of her uniform and her accent. She pulled the small Gurkha from Pali closely and smiled at her friend. "I'm just glad you came to her much needed aid."

Brinda's face scrunched up in discomfort. "Don't say it like that Alannah... it's embarrassing enough as it is right now." The Gurkha girl mumbled to herself quietly. "I don't have a Cutting Board Chest. I'm not that small at all... that girl has no idea what she's talking about."

Alannah stroked the small girls head tenderly. "Pay no attention to her, you'll grow up to be a strong, beautiful woman. I promise you."

Brinda blushes in embarrassment. "Y-your just saying that because we're friends. You don't have to lie for my sake."

"But it's the truth. No worries my friend; you'll become a gorgeous Sheila, just wait and see." Brinda said little else after that, her face blushing a deeper shade of red on her cheeks as she fell silent.

Jenna smirked in amusement; seeing such camaraderie amongst witches warmed her heart deeply. Esprit de corps amongst soldiers was a vital dynamic for a unit; without it a units effectiveness would be insufficient for it to be perform in combat. You had to have absolute trust and faith with your comrades. Support them out in the field and they in turn will support you. That was what Jenna learned when she first entered military life, she took this to heart from her drill Sergeant back in basic, but when she met Darya she wanted to go that extra step further. When she saw other young soldiers follow this key lesson she sought to support them and maximize their skills. Lieutenant Clotilda saw this in the Sergeant Major and so she wanted her to serve as one of her Junior NCO's and as a Tank Witch Leader for the Tank Witches of the 78th at that. Jenna agreed but on one condition; that Darya can stay alongside her in the unit. Even if Darya was an air infantry witch, she sincerely cherished her. She only grew stronger as a witch thanks to Darya supporting her. It was clear what the inevitable outcome was to be...

After Shirley had spent some time getting Lucchini calmed down from the sudden fright of Jenna's ultimatum she started to muss up the smaller girls hair with her hand and wearing a wide grin. "Alright kiddo, it's time for the two of us to get some training in with these guys."

Now feeling better Lucchini smiled a toothy smile, beaming happily. "Okay!" She replied. "I know how we can make training fun for once!"

Shirley chuckled. "You too huh? How about we give them a try today for training?" Lucchini laughed again in response and danced over to the table which the two soldiers and the lab technician were studying the weapons the American's had left for them as a token of thanks. The other girls and a few of the male personnel watched as both Lucchini and Charlotte's eye's traveled over every weapon laying at rest on the large table surface, the hanger occupants spectating in curiosity as the two girls began the selection process. Many of the weapons systems looked very powerful or at least pretty cool. Lucchini was deciding which weapon she should use, but almost all of the guns in front of her she didn't know how to use. Well...almost all but one...

Francesca's eyes rested on one of the M4A1's and somehow felt drawn to them. She chose an assault carbine that was closest to her and smiled warmly. She may have been used the Romagnan weapons and the M1919A6 that Shirley gave her, but she finally decided to try using the M4A1. The reason for this because it was the same rifle that James used. When the Ranger Private returned back to his world she was starting to miss him. But with the M4A1 she was holding... it almost felt like he was still with her. She remembered what James had shown her that time at the shooting range; she retrieved a full Magazine of 5.56mm from the table, tapped it first against her head, inserted the thirty round magazine into the magazine well, slapped the mag well and pulled back on the charging handle; just like James had taught her. Being the young prodigy that she was this technique was easy for her to remember, and even after a short time of holding the weapon in question she was feeling more familiar with it.

Both she and the others heard how ammunition types used by the American weapons were being manufactured by a handful of ammunitions manufacturers from the Remington Arm's company and Winchester Repeating Arms Company back in the Ranger's world, so it was reasoned that members of these companies in the witches world would come to the witches Romagna base to study the rounds the Americans gave them and reproduce them, the handful of cartridge manufacturers who were sent to do this have taken time to study and reproduce (with some marginal difficulty) a modest supply of the two rounds that the American weapons utilized. The ammunition manufactures were amazed with the cartage samples they were provided, taking time to study the designs of the bullets and the amount of propellant used in the cartridges in question. The one round that didn't require this was the Browning Machine Gun 50 Calibre rounds which were heavily used by Liberion M2 Heavy Machine Guns that were seen on Liberion Tanks and Air Craft and found in the hands of Liberion Heavy Machinegun teams and Witches. One thing that was yet to be studied were the magazines themselves, which would have to be done at a later date.

Shirley turned to Lucchini, her eyes traveling across the carbine in the small girls hand. "Going with that one huh?"

Lucchini nodded. "Yeah, it's just like James's gun. I wanna try it for a while!" she replied.

"I heard that things the Carbine version of the American standard issue rifle. I'll give the rifle a try, they're both more or less the same mechanically speaking. Let's see... ah here's one..." Finding the weapon she was looking for; an M16A3, she retrieved it from the table and picked up a nearby magazine with full ammo, using the same loading method that Lucchini used. The Ranger's called it the "Tap-and-Slap" method. Both girls liked the name for it; to Lucchini it sounded cool, and Shirley thought it would make a perfect double entendre for dirty jokes. After she loaded the rifle she hungrily eyed the weapon in her grasp. "The guys said that you could modify this baby with any attachment you can think of for any situation on the battlefield, plus its very accurate. I wonder just what I can do with it?"

One of the new recruits, a Fuso girl who wore a uniform that was all black, looks questioningly at Shirley as she was inspecting the rifle. "Do you really know how to use those weapons?" she asked.

Shirley wore a lopsided grin. "Just this one." she replied. "But hey, may as well get a better feel for what I know before I try learning how to use the other weapons, right?"

One of the soldiers at the table, a Romagnan Infantry men, had a questioning look on his face. "Since when did you learn to use these weapons Captain?"

Shirley simply beamed in response. "Let's just say a good friend taught us..." she replied. She looked to the girls of the 78th and winked. "So, do you girls want to train with us or are you going to just hang around all day looking pretty?"

Clotilda nodded. "We'll take you up on that offer." Looking to the new recruits she spoke with firm authority, to which her subordinates snapped to attention. "Isn't that right girls?!"

The girls promptly gave a response. "Mamm, yes mamm!"

"Alright, you greenhorns retrieve your training weapons and get in your strikers! We have training to do, so move your assess!" The recruits wordlessly obeyed and took off running as the Lieutenant continued to use verbal motivation.. "Move it, move it , move it!"

The second solider, a Liberion Sergeant, frowned in disapproval as he looked at the rifles the two 501st witches are holding. "Feels weird holding one of these things. They don't look or feel like they are even real."

Lucchini scoffed. "Shows how much you know; James and the others managed to fight a few Neuroi with these cool guns." She looked to Shirley in excited anticipation. "Come on Shirley, let's go already! I wanna get flying!"

"Hell yeah, let's get it in gear and have ourselves a little fun" At that, both girls hurry off to don their Strikers, the prospect of trying out the two American made rifles an exciting one for both of them.

The Liberion Sergeant looks over to the Romangan soldier and shakes his head in disapproval. "Call me old-fashioned, but I'd rather stick with my Garand. With those so-called rifles I'm afraid that I'd break the damn things if I even touched them."

The Romangan shrugged. "Strange world, strange weapons, strange people. All strange everywhere. I can hardly imagine it myself..."

"No kidding." the Liberion scoffed.

The Karlsland scientist looked up from his notepad and frowned at the two soldiers. "Ya, ya, enough with that already, we must continue our work." He tapped a nearby weapon system that was apparently called a "Javelin missile launcher" with his pencil. "Come, we must look at this weapon system next. We have much studying to do."

* * *

><p><strong>September 2nd – 16:34:49<strong>

**Task Force 141 - Disavowed**

**Tracking... Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley and Captain Gertrud Barkhorn ...**

Simon felt the wind blowing against him and the G-forces pressing against his body as Gertrud held him aloft in the air. Being held several dozen feet in the above the ground while in flight with only the Karlslanders arms wrapped around him was, to put it mildly, a stressful experience. The prospect of falling from this high wasn't very appealing; if he fell and landed on his head, then that would be likely to kill him. Even if he landed on his feet, it was expected that both his legs and spine could get broken. The only thing keeping him from falling to certain, crippling injury if not in fact death was Trudy's hold on him. After another mile he could feel Gertrud easing off the throttle and descending into a small clearing. She eased her way to the ground and let the Lieutenant fall from her grasp when his feet were just above the ground. The Task Force operator staggered over to the side of a nearby tree and took deep haggard breaths.

"Fucksake Trudy, you trying to give me a heart attack!?" he demanded as he struggled to fill his lungs with oxygen.

Gertrud crossed her arms as a smirk formed on her lips. "What's the matter? Can't handle a little flight time, Lieutenant?" she scoffed.

"Not a flight like that!" he retorted. "If I'm going to be flying through the air I'd rather it be within the confines of a solid, properly maintained aircraft." With his back to the tree he sank down to the forest floor and mopped his face with one hand and his other hand over his heart, which was still dancing wildly in his chest. "Ah fucking hell, my hearts pounding like a jackhammer."

"Bracing isn't it?" Trudy asked jokingly. Simon could sense that she must have been enjoying this on some level.

"Not the word I'd use, luv." After finally catching his breath Ghost managed to find his legs again and stood up. "So what's so damned important that you wanted to drag me all the way out here for?"

Unfolding her arms, Gertrud's striker engines roared for a moment and propelled her from left to right when she leaned in those respective directions. After a quick 360 counter-clockwise spin she then eased towards Ghost while smiling. "Isn't this exciting Lieutenant?! I have full access to my magic in this world; that means I can fly with my strikers here!" Her eyes shone with a fierce determination as she continued. "And that means I can fight like a true witch again."

Ghost nodded. "Yes, that's all well and good, and I am happy for ya but that begs the question in regards to this whole "drag me ten miles out to a clearing" bit. Mind letting me in on that one."

An amused look fills Gertrud's face. "The answer's obvious." The Captain leaned backwards and flew towards a tree opposite of the one Ghost stood beside. She circled it twice and then came to rest up against it while hovering five feet off the ground, the sound of the Striker Engines dulled to a low drone as she hovered. Gertrud's face softened as she looked to the Lieutenant. "I wanted to give my thanks of course."

Ghost blinked. "Thanks? Whatever for?"

Gertrud's hands glided to her back at ease, a light blush finding its way on her cheeks. "For...well, for being there to help me; for the support. And I also appreciate how the others have been willing to go out of their way to help me as well." Her face sagged a little and her body slackened a bit as she continued. "I've been stuck here in your world for a little over a month. It's been a... difficult transition. To be honest I still wonder if I can make my way back home or not..." Her smile suddenly returned and her body straitened again. "But I was only able to get this far in this global war and restore use of my powers again thanks to you and the members of the Task Force. I owe every single one of you my gratitude and so much more. I am in your debt."

Ghost was silent for a moment, taking in the young Captain's words. After a while he made a dismissive hand gesture. "It's alright Barkhorn, just doing my job. Besides, you would have done the same." Ghost looked at Gertrud and his eyes locked with hers. He could see that her eyes had seemed different then from when he first met her. He knew why that was, he's seen it before; both in the eye's of others and in the mirror every morning. Soldier's in his world would almost always have those eyes, given enough time. But he could take solace in the fact that at least her moral was better. After a moment of thoughtful silence he scratches his chin. "Do you remember the promise that I made to you a while back? The one when you first arrived in our world?" Gertrud nods affirmative. After she does so he reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out the MAPPED. "Well, this thing still seems to work. It's about time I honored that promise."

Gertrud's face lights up brighter then Ghost has ever seen before, even more so then what he had seen earlier. She surges forward and hovers just in front of the Lieutenant, her eye's fixated on the MAPPED. "You still have the device!?" she asked in amazement.

He nodded. "Yeah, and like I said, it's still ticking."

After taking some time to inspect the MAPPED, she looked up to him with a sudden, questioning look. "Why did you wait until now to give it to me?" she asked.

Ghost took Gertrud's hand and placed the MAPPED into her possession, his hand still holding the device while it now rested in her grasp, his other hand cradling her own. "I wanted to be sure you were alright. You were transported from your world into mine, and you had to take human life more than once over the course of 48 hours the first time you got here. You were under pressure, you were scared and depressed, you were the only witch in our reality and you left a lot of friends and a sister behind. Not to mention you lost your magic for a while and I'm not sure if we can figure out how we can make this thing get you home... but I wanted to ensure that you were helped though this whole thing with people that went through war in this world on a daily basis. I didn't feel it would have been fair for you or the 501st to just dump you back in your world without making sure that you had the proper support required when it came to the realities of human on human warfare."

Gertrud blinked. "R-really? You didn't have to go through all the trouble and take on that sort of responsibility." she replied.

Ghost shook his head. "In my line of work I've seen too many good men with promising futures lose everything because they didn't have a proper support network. Up to and including their lives, mostly by their own hands... I didn't want that to be repeated..."

Gertrud's eyes widened a bit at that, but then a rueful look flooded her face. She understood what Simon as getting at; Soldier suicide sounded like a grim problem in this troubled world. If the small fraction of warfare in this world was as bad as what she experienced then she feared to imagine what mental and emotional struggles would befall a soldier who served for a year of such battles, if not in fact more. And judging from Ghost's own personal accounts she was concerned with how anyone else could handle such trials; Simon barley even managed to get though his own personal baggage alive. Even now she wondered if he still had any still left over as carry-on's, if he did he didn't show it.

"I see... thank you..." She gently took the MAPPED from his grasp and looked at the dial of the clock-like transport device. She took a moment to study the small contraption, trying to figure out how to properly operate it. Unfortunately she did suffer from one problem that would prove to be another obstacle for her, but she figured she best try and figure it out. The chance to return home to both her unit and sister was in reach, she needed only to grasp for it. When she pressed one of the buttons on the display, thoughts of returning home to her squad and her dear Chris made her smile happily. Once she figured this device out she could return home to them again...

The Lieutenant meanwhile was getting lost in his thoughts. A voice in his mind echoed deep in his subconscious while his heart increased in tempo a bit. It was an old, familiar voice. When he and Gertrud locked eyes after he placed the MAPPED into her hand he recalled an old, forgotten conversation he and his brother had many long years ago. Just a few minutes before the life he once had came crashing down.

* * *

><p><em>Simon holds his nephew Joseph above his head, the young boy pretending to be a fighter pilot as the SAS operator held him aloft, moving him in a motion reminiscent of fighter jet ascending and descending. In Joseph's hand is a toy jet, curving and moving in the boys grasp. All the while, Simons mom sat in a living room chair with a mug of tea in her hand, looking on happily at the family her son's had made, while his brother rested on the living room couch.<em>

"_Vroooom! Faster! Faster!" The young boy chortled._

_Tommy, Simons brother, gave a small smile as his son and brother were bonding. "Go Easy on your uncle, Joseph."_

_Simon gently sets the boy down on the floor, the SAS man's face showing a grin as sweat poured down his brow, though he felt it, he wouldn't let on he was feeling tired. "It's all right. You're a lucky man, Tom. I'm proud of you."_

_Tommy tilts his head and returns a toothy grin at his brother. "When are you going to stop saving the world and settle down?"_

_Simon smiles knowingly and just shakes his head. "Ahh... I couldn't do better then you and Beth."_

_His brother laughs. "You're the SAS golden boy, I know you could pick up any girl you wanted in London, like how I did with Beth. She and Joseph are the best things to have happened to me man, and if you gave it a shot, you can find a girl out there. "_

"_It's okay Tom, I've done fine on my own. Besides, I doubt any women in the world could stand to be with me more than a minute."_

_Toms face falls a little flat as Simon digresses his younger brothers statement. "Are you for real, Simon? You're not going to at least find yourself a good girl to spend the rest of your life with?"_

"_I...just dunno Tom, I'm not sure if I can find that one girl who would be willing to shack up with me, ya know."_

_Tommy puts his hand on Simons shoulder and looks his brother in the eyes with an empathetic look on his face. "You'll find one mate. One of these days you'll see her and from the moment your eyes meet with hers you'll think: "She's the one. She's the one I want to spend forever with. No one else but her: the love of my life." _

_A thoughtful look crosses Simon's face. "Is that right? Just like that?"_

"_Happened to me and Beth, It'll happen to you someday. Any girl would be lucky to have a man like you at her side." Simon couldn't help but smirk, he was about to make a quick joke about his brother's sappy speech when presently a knock came from the front door..._

* * *

><p>At the time, Simon didn't think much into it and pretty much brushed off what his younger brother told him. Then again it was hard not to, he had other things to worry about at the time, and what happened after wards made him forget it all together, the future 141 operator becoming consumed with anger, vengeance and by the end a numb feeling overtook his heart . He became a Ghost, a walking dead man, a shadow of his former self. But...after all these years, he could remember the conversation he and Tom exchanged that day, the words spoken coming back to him like a familiar song that plays in your mind over and over again. When Simon looked deeply into the eyes of Gertrude Barkhorn, the windows of her soul, and her into his, Simon couldn't help but recognize the irony, thinking silently as he became lost in the young soldiers shining brown eyes, finally feeling something he once thought impossible to feel after he became his skull faced namesake.<p>

_She's the one Tom. I know your probably laughing at me brother, but I think...honest to god... I think..._

After many years of being a "high functioning wreak", unable to feel things proper and paying evil unto evil, Simon was finally feeling something more than anger, more than numbness. The feeling was alien... but it also felt...welcome.

But another voice gave him pause... a pair of voices actually. On occasion Simon still heard the voices: ethereal demons of his past whispering from somewhere deep in the dark cracks of his mind. Sometimes it was his old man; "Old Bones". Nine times out of ten it was Roba, but again these were occasional. But they were starting to become more frequent. He thought he managed to expel these old ghost's of his past. Or at least bury them deep in a stone box, so to speak. But it's apparent it's not deep enough...

And every time they whispered to him, it was from deep in the shadows. The voice of Old bone's was the first unwanted nuisance, he cackled in Simon's mind, his voice raspy. "Hey, hey, solider boy. Ya liken this slag, eh? Pretty young thing she is. And here I was worried the only thing that can get your wilily up was by putting fuckers in the ground. Well what ya waiting for, son? Have a go at her, show her a good time."

Simon mentally flipped off the voice of his so called father; old man Bones. Like hell he would give that old bastard the time of day. Even after he was long dead and gone his father still kept on haunting him. He got some professional help thanks to Price; who made it a point that Simon could see a shrink and not worry about getting discharged, so long as his head was right. And it was. Hell, it still is... save for this...

Old Bones scoffed. "Still a belligerent shit aren't ya, you hit man bastard. Guess you take after yer old man after all, right down to the skull and bones. My son; my fucking son is a dammed robot of war... I still get a kick out of how you still hate me and yet wear the skull on your face: just like me mate. You used ta piss yourself every time I came near ya, you pussy. Ha! Like you could get any if you wanted." Old bones then spoke with derision as he continued to ridicule Simon. "And you probably could too you little tosser, damn slag's would be lining up to shag you damned murders so long as you were in uniform. Hell you struck pay dirt with this bitch! She's the same as you: a damn war waging, life taking, uniformed killer. Just. Like. You. Cept she's got tits on her... damn good body. You're not going to let a good piece of tail go to waste are ya?"

Ghost mentally throttled that voice and kicked it back into the box where he kept all his mental baggage. No sooner had he gotten one voice under control that another took its place, though at a distance. The fat man himself...

"She's a good catch English... she's everything a man like you could want. Not like the women I tried to tempt you with. She's a warrior, like you, and a woman with a fine Punta. You both would get along just fine. And I can make it "good" for you too... just like old times. Perhaps this time it won't just be in your dreams either." Simon's blood boiled as he focused his will on putting the lid on this mental fragment. The voice of Roba whispered. "You can't get rid of me stupid. I'm in your head. Only way to kill me is to eat your gun, remember? I'll just be back again... and then, you and I English... you and I will have some fun."

Simon's psyche attacked the voice of the fat Mexican roaming deep in his mind and crammed it at the very bottom of the box, then tossed that box in a deep dark ocean attached to a lead anchor. Those voices WEREN'T Simon. They were NOT his conscience. They were just pathetic constructs of his mind born from his PTSD. But even then, he wasn't going to let himself falter. He would do what he'd always do: ignore the voices and if they resurface; stick the damned bastards in the box where they belong.

But he worried about why they were getting out like this more and more. He worried that it may inadvertently hurt Trudy. A part of him wondered if he had feelings for her, and if he did he wondered more if pursuing something could work? A part of him couldn't help but ask what her thoughts were. But with these dangerous voices of evil men echoing in his head he knew better. He didn't dare act on thoughts regarding a relationship, he couldn't live with himself if he hurt her in any way, shape or form. And if somehow he did... then he damn well wasn't going to see tomorrow...

All the while, the only outward signs of this internal struggle was nothing more than the occasional furrow of his brow, which was hidden thanks to his skull balaclava. After a few minutes pass Ghost exhaled. "Well, I'm glad to have been of service to you Captain. It was a weird, wild ride but it was alright after all's said and done. You take care of yourself." He's about to walk off, but he stops himself and looks back to the Karlsland Captain. A final look upon those brown eyes, for the last time, though they were cast down to the MAPPED studiously. "And no worries I can find my way back no problem. I'll let the others know that you give them their regards, okay?" He then starts walking past the witch Captain of Karlsland in a calm, quiet manner. He said his goodbyes, now he must focus on moving forward.

* * *

><p>Gertrud's eyes snap up to Ghost as he began to make the long walk back to the safe house of the Russian Loyalists. She watched him calmly marching through the forest, as if he was on a casual morning stroll in a park. She looked back down at the device in her hand and became lost in her thoughts. She did want to go home; she knew her sister and her unit both needed her dearly. Without her the 501st would be at half their fighting strength and her sister would be without a family. Her eyes slowly fell back to the MAPPED as she thought of her country. Her homeland, Karlsland, was still being occupied by the Neuroi. She had to free it from the enemy's control no matter what. She just had to get home...<p>

But...

Her eyes darted back up to Ghost, who's back was becoming more and more distant. Another feeling had wormed it's way into her. She felt... that if she left now... that she was essentially abandoning Simon, abandoning the Task Force when they were in their most dire of times. They had to stop an insane, monstrous madman; to take down a mad dog Russian terrorist, and try to clear their good names. And most importantly: why did he seem so ready to let her go with so few words? As she considered what had transpired she came to realize in hindsight that something was troubling the Lieutenant. But what could it be? That was a curious mystery to her. A thought then crossed her; could it be... that he bore wounds that cannot be seen with the naked eye? Could it have been the reason that he felt like they should part ways, or was it some other reason. Should she stay? Should she go? She felt so torn on what was the right course of action.

Two worlds, two wars to fight, two unit's that needed her.

What was she to do?

She looked back down at the MAPPED in her hand one last time and ran her other hand over it. At that moment she realized what she should do. She closed her eyes and sighed, silently begging an apology to her sister and unit back home deep in her mind. She looked back over at Ghost's silhouette and promptly hovered after him. Once she was three feet behind him he turned around to face her, he had a look of mild surprise in his eyes and cocked his head curiously.

"Everything alright?" he asked plainly.

Gertrud drew closer, took Ghost's hand and placed the MAPPED back in his gloved palm. She looked up to him. "I still have something to finish before I leave."

Ghost was unresponsive at first. She was certain that he didn't expect her to follow him and place the only means of getting back home that he gave her back in his hand. He blinked slowly a few times, then gently pushed the MAPPED back towards her. "You don't have to feel like you have an obligation to stay. It wouldn't be right or fair of either myself or the others to keep you here. That would prevent you from serving the people in your world. You don't have to stay any longer then you have to, so I won't force you to." He tilted his head down and looked over his glasses. "I don't want to keep you from your unit Barkhorn. Those girls will need you. Your world needs you."

She shook her head and gently pushed the MAPPED back to the operator before her. "A soldier of Karlsland doesn't abandon her allies." She drew a heavy breath and began to explain. "I know the other girls are likely worried sick about me... and I shudder to imagine what..." She hesitated, catching herself as her voice just started to falter, she then continued. "What Chris is going through... and I do wish to liberate my homeland from the enemy back home...but I don't think I could forgive myself if I just abandoned the Task force when you need all the help you can get. You helped me when I was in need. It's only fair I repay what you did."

"Hey, you already did Trudy." Ghost rebutted. "Back when that tosser Krupke tried that crap with us and we had to deal with that Neuroi infiltration at Ground Zero you did a lot to help Roach and I home. The debt is paid, so to speak."

Trudy smiled. "Call it interest then." she replied.

Ghost blinked again, then he chuckled. Gertrud really was something else. "Stubborn girl, aren't you?" he asked lightly.

The Karlsland witch of the 501st nods. "I guess I am...one more mission. How about it? After that, I can return home."

"Once more unto the Breach, eh?" Ghost shakes his head in bemusement. "Alright. If you really want to, one more mission." He looks down at the MAPPED questioningly. "You want me to hang onto this for you in the meantime?"

Trudy releases her grasp on the device and scratches her check sheepishly. "I think it would be best. To be completely honest I'm not very good with machines anyways."

Ghost's facial features go completely flat at that statement. "You're not good with machines? Wait minute, what about your strikers: aren't they technically a type of machine?" He asks as he returns the MAPPED to his pocket.

Gertrud shrugs. "They are the only thing I can operate in any capacity. I can't even drive an automobile, I have to get Hartmann to drive for me."

"So you're a walking mecha-bane with Strikers being the exception to the rule then? I guess that excludes your from driving duties of any sort." He looks about the surrounding forest a moment before look back to Gertrud expectantly. "So, I'm guessing we both head back to the safe house then?"

"Sounds like a plan. Are you ready?" she asked expectantly.

"Don't tell me you're going to pull that same stunt again, are you?" Gertrud only grins in response and grabs hold of the Task force Operator. Ghost throws his hands up in defeat. "Well at least I'm prepared for it this time." he mutters. Once again he feels his feet leave the ground once more as Gertrud fly's him back to the Safe house. Only this time he found that it didn't seem nearly as bad twice around, not as stressful as before. Though he figured that was because he was expecting it this time. Still wasn't exactly what he'd call fun...

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Gary "Roach" Sanderson...<strong>

Gary sat on a crate sitting by the motor pool. He found himself another beer that was a bit chilled this time. After taking a chug he takes in the Taiwanese countryside. It was pretty peaceful in a way, despite the fact the Loyalists had to shack up here in one of Nikolai's many safe houses. As he took in the scenery he noticed Yuna approaching him with a beer in one hand and a SCAR-L in the other. He raised his can up in a gesture of greeting, which Yuna returned warmly.

"Hey Scope, how are ya doing?"

"Doing good. Mind if I pull up a stump?"

The young Brit gestured at the crate next to him. "Not at all, take a seat and be my guest." She found her seat next to Roach and took a drink from her beer. After Roach took another drink he glanced over at his fellow Sergeant. "So what do you think about-"

"Fucking cool!" Yuna responded quickly, interrupting his question, having anticipated it. She was grinning from ear to ear again as excitement shone in her eyes. "So you got to see her and her squad actually do that kind of stuff back in her world on a daily basis?"

"More or less." Roach answered, shrugging lightly. "Was a bit weird seeing it at first but hey, after a while you just sort of get used to it a little. Well, the flying anyway..." the corner of his mouth pulled downward in bemusement. "The whole "no pant's" thing still throws me a bit."

"No arguments here. Still not sure I'm too crazy about the fact most of them are minors either." She adds thoughtfully. "But I guess their magic helps them out fighting. And if those aliens are as bad as you say then I guess it's a moot point, wither any of us like it or not." She looked to Roach questioningly. "I remember hearing how you and Ghost fought alongside Gertrud's unit against those alien things. What was it like?"

Roach exhaled evenly. "Stressful. Trust me, me trying to describe what it's like would not be as good as just living and experiencing it for yourself. The only thing I can say is that I wouldn't really call it fun. Ran out of M203's fighting some Neuroi walkers on that one mission with Ghost and those guys from Hunter-2-1. Bloody fucken nuts, let me tell ya."

"I'll take your word for it, but I guess I just want some sort of frame of reference in my mind." She took another drink, another question forming in her mind. "Speaking of Ghost, do you know why Barkhorn dragged him off like that?"

Roach shrugged. "Damned if I know. Probably for a private chat or something... or knowing Trudy; putting her strength to the test."

"Huh, that's right. She has some sort of strength augmentation magic. That explains that whole flying car thing a while back."

Roach laughed. "I know, right? I heard she once threw a big ass steel girder, apparently about fifty of these things were blocking the entrance to the striker hanger so she grabbed one just tossed it aside... or so we were told. Happened during the whole Warlock incident."

Yuna blinked. "Warlock incident?" she asked.

Roach look at Yuna flatly. "So you're not at all curious as to how Gertrud can toss metal gurders but the Warlock incident tickles your intrest?" She shrugs in response with a lopsided grin, to which Roach sighs and continues. "Some sort of incident involving a prototype weapon system that utilized a Neuroi's core for power. It was a complete and utter bust after the unit went haywire and attacked the Akagi and the girls had to destroy the damned thing." Roach explained. "The girls told us how at one point the Warlock combined with the Akagi to make some sort of weird ass mechanical abomination of laser shooting death. Though again, that's the story they gave us."

Yuna took a moment to consider the scenario for a bit.. "The Akagi aircraft carrier becoming something like that, huh? Sounds nuts." After a moment of thought it raised another confusing question for her. "Hey I was just thinking; just what exactly ARE the Neuroi, I mean besides that fact they're aliens."

Roach looked thoughtful as he responded. "Not sure to be honest, I was too busy worrying about the whole laser thing they were rocking but I bloody well couldn't tell you myself... I'm just as sure about em as you are..." He shot a goofy looking smile as he gestured with his hand in amusement. "But that part about the Warlock and Akagi and what you said a second ago; that was exactly my thoughts when they told me that story." As one of the Loyalists was passing the two of them, Roach promptly pulled out a pair of binoculars and motioned to the passing man. "Hey, can you help me out a sec?"

The man glanced over to the young Sergeant. "Da? What you need comrade?" he asked.

Roach pointed to his binoculars and explained. "I've been having trouble with these things, I'm not sure if the lenses are damaged or not. Think you can give me a hand? "

The man extends his hand. "Really? Let me have a look." Roach hands off the Binoculars to the man who places them to his eyes, looking towards the tree line. After a few moments of looking through the lenses and adjusting the focus he speaks. "They seem to be fine to me. They have no noticeable damage." When he lowers the binoculars from his face a pair of back rings appear around the Loyalists eyes that weren't there before.

The corner of Roach's mouth hitches into a slight smirk, the black face makeup he applied to the binoculars transferred beautifully. "Huh, could have sworn something was up. Must have been mistaken. Thanks mate, you've been really helpful." Yuna was struggling to keep from laughing, when a smile began to cross her face she placed her hand in front of her mouth to hide her smile. After the man returned the binoculars to Roach and went about his business in obliviousness, Roach started to chuckle once his prank victim was out of earshot.

Yuna couldn't contain herself anymore and let out her previously stifled laughter. "My god, your terrible! I can't believe you managed to pull that off!"

Roach smiled toothily and wagged the binoculars in his grasp. "Still got it. I was worried I was getting rusty, but he fell for it. One of the oldest tricks in the book."

"Part of me feels bad for that poor guy, but another part of me can't help but get a kick out it." Yuna looked to the SCAR slung on her chest for a moment and then back to Roach. "Hey, I was thinking of hitting the obstacle course for a while. How about it; you want to join me? Get a little exercise?"

"Well, I do want to stay in shape and keep sharp." he replied half-joking.

Yuna practically leapt off of the crate she was sitting on in excitement. "Then let's do this! Better get your game face on..." After he got to his feet Yuna lead Roach to the obstacle course on the other side of the compound. A few of the Loyalists were running the course, the pit and training on the range nearby, making sure their skills were sharp. Setting aside her rifle Yuna took up position with Roach behind a small group of troops running the obstacle course, with a large audience of Loyalists spectating, cheering and encouraging those who began running the course. A senior ranked Non-Commissioned Officer with a stop watch was timing the pairs that were running against the clock. Usually everyone would run this course in mass in the mornings for early morning training, but now late in the afternoon it was time for exercise and entertainment on your own time. When Yuna and Roach's turns came up the Loyalist NCO smirked in amusement.

"Ah, the Task Force has graced us with their presence on my course." He mused jokingly. "Think you both can handle it?"

Roach nods with a determined grin on his face. "Hell yeah, let's get this shit started!"

The Loyalist looks to Yuna with bemusement. "Think you can handle this Sergeant? It's a tough grind, you can sit it out if you want, da?" he says, with mild condescension in his tone.

"Yeah, I'm good to run it." she answers enthusiastically.

The look on his face changed to a less friendly expression. "I have doubts about that, my course is a grueling set of obstacles. You wouldn't be the first or the last to wash out."

Yuna may have been grinning but her eyes sharpened into a subtle glare. She could detect the tone of voice he was using and what he was likely implying; he was rubbing her the wrong way. She just glanced over at him as she got into a starting position. "Maybe for these scrubs, but this ain't nothing for me, hooah. Set the clock so I can dust this course; I'll show you boys how we roll in the 141..."

The oblivious Loyalist shrugs. "Alright if you say so... ready?" Both Task Force operators tense at the starting line in their respective starting positions as their eyes locked at their first obstacle on the parallel tracks. The man's thumb presses the start button on his stop watch. "GO!"

Both operators were off like a shot, sprinting towards the first obstacle; The belly buster; a set of three log beams at varying heights that they would have to vault over while on their stomachs. At the first beam they both vault over with their legs facing outwards and their heads facing in. This was done so that a soldier didn't end up smacking his comrade in the head with his feet. After the first vault it was repeated twice more easily, both operators able to move on while neck and neck. The next obstacle was a pair of balancing logs that went from ground level and up to about seven feet high off the ground. The determined pair reached the start of this course with their boots coming down on the wood hard. They both make a decent hustle across but Roach manages to get ahead by a small margin, with the female Sergeant taking the obstacle at a slightly slower pace.. With Yuna now nipping at his heels he pushes himself to the next obstacle; a set of tunnels. Getting quickly to his hands and knees and plunging into the entrance he crawls quickly through in the dark for a moment, keeping his eyes at the exit in front of him. Once he's out he scrambles to his feet and continues running the course, rounding a bend to get to the next obstacle.

He reaches the Cargo net, a familiar obstacle that admittedly he enjoyed back in basic. Something about scaling this thing was fun for him, so he took hold of the heavy ropes in his hands with enthusiasm. The rough fibers of the ropes felt almost like the same cargo net he crawled up when he was back in basic... though he quickly shook himself back to reality. Trips down memory lane would have to be at another time. As he got up and halfway across he looked back and noticed that Yuna was at the bottom and was climbing as though Jason Voorhees was hot on her tail. He kicked it into overtime and quickened his pace, scrambling down the other side of the cargo net and beating feet across the dirt path in front of him, with Yuna only fifteen seconds behind him. Looking ahead he saw the last three obstacles, two of which were the pretty easy Barbwire crawl and the tire obstacle. After that lay the end of the course...

But before all that lay the Rope Swing over the mud pit. Roach subconsciously cringed a little inside, but he sure as hell wasn't about to wash out now. He took a deep breath as this particular obstacle drew closer. _No worries mate... you can do this... just grab, swing and get across. Easy pickings. No way you can fuck this up..._

Roach readies his body to make the jump towards the rope. Midst stride his ankle rolls a little, a sudden, sharp pain assailed him but he pushes on. Once he thinks he close enough he leaps, his feet kicking off from the ground and his rolled ankle protesting adamantly. His hands reach for the dangling rope that is fast approaching him and makes a grab for it. His left hand swipes at the rope but ultimately misses. His right hand grasps the rope but it isn't a sure hold, as he swings the rope slips out of his hand. He can feel gravity start to pull down on his body. He looks down to see the huge hole filled with mud rushing to greet him. He bleats out as he falls backwards from the momentum until he lands head first into the muddy water, his back slamming against the wall of the pit.

Yuna noticed her friends spill into the mud but kept pushing. Once she reached the Rope Swing she leapt and cleanly grabbed the rope. The momentum she got let her swing clean across the muddy pit below and reach the other side. She strode a few steps then trotted to a halt. She saw that the last two obstacles were the easiest, which meant she would complete the course before Roach who was currently taking a mud bath. And knowing some people they would have likely just continued on without looking back. But Yuna, was a Ranger; she was taught better than that. She turned around and approached the edge of the mud pit. She crossed her arms and wore an amused smile.

Roach managed to get his head to break the surface of the mud, taking a deep breath of air to fill his lungs. He was caked literally head to toe with mud, coving every inch of his battle dress uniform, chest rig, ammo and clogging the pistol in his holster. In fact it was currently going into places that he didn't even want to think about. He really couldn't believe he could fuck this one up. With his luck someone was recording his spill right now and was going to post it up on YouTube, his spill into the mud immortalized for posterity. "Fuck." he groaned at last. "Now I'm a mud monster with a sore back."

"Still having trouble with the jumps I see?" Yuna joked lightly. As well trained and hard charging a solider he was, Roach had always had a rough time jumping for some reason or another. He was tough as hell and eager to prove himself, and was ever pretty damn durable but this proved to be his kryptonite. Yuna was, however, willing to give her squad mate some help seeing as he needed it right about now. She extended a hand down towards him."Need a hand?" she asked warmly.

Roach wiped off as much mud on his hand as he could and took hers. "Yeah, thanks. You could have kept running ya know, ya didn't need to stop for me."

Yuna's grin became toothy as she helped Roach out of the mud pit. "You remember what I said the last time this happened on the course way back? Ranger's don't leave men behind. Either your all in, or your all dead; that's how it works, Hooah?"

"Yeah, I copy."

Yuna gave Roach's mud covered shoulder a playful slap and motioned with her head over at the last two obstacles before the end of the course. "Come on, two more left and one of them has more mud for you to crawl through. Let's hustle up!" She is off again like a shot, sprinting to the barbed wire that was being manned by some Loyalist troops holding jerry cans filled with water. Roach swayed his head asking "What the hell" and followed after her just as she dove beneath the first set of wire and began crawling her way through the mud. A few of the men on either side of the barbed wire were already dumping water on her as she crawled but she powered through. She was thankful they didn't decide to fill the barbed wire obstacle with pigs blood and guts this time around.

Roach managed to get under the wires just as Yuna reached the other side of the barbed wire. The mud was really weighing him down, and his back and ankle wasn't exactly helping him either from that spill. By the time he had crawled his way through more mud after getting drenched with water from the jerry can wielding Loyalists that were "motivating" him, Yuna had already finished the tire run obstacle and reached the end of the course about a solid fifteen seconds ahead of him. Once he breathlessly finished the course she shot him a mischievous grin that shone through the patches of mud that stuck to her face. It was amazing to him that despite the mud that clung to the front of her and the water that ran down her back that she didn't seem fazed by it in the slightest.

"Feeling good?" she asked.

He took a moment to catch his breath before responding. "I'm feeling something." he replied half joking. "My back for the most part." He look to her in amusement and scoffed softly. "Managed to get ahead of you that time. Balance logs let me get some ground on you."

Yuna seemed unfazed and her face turned a little smug. "I knew I'd make up for it at the Rope Swing." She then pointed at him. "And I was right. Know the enemy, know thyself. Kept that little nugget in mind and I came out on top as a result"

Roach let loose a laugh. "Yeah, your good at that. You could likely read me like an open book."

She shrugged. "Just about. I've known you long enough to know your strengths and weaknesses. I can read nearly everyone in the 141 pretty good now, including myself. But even I still have some weaknesses I need to cover."

After wiping some mud out of his eyes Roach smiled warmly. "That's where me and the other guys come in, right? Keep your weaknesses covered, maximize your strengths."

She returned his warm smile. "Right. And vise versa."

Looking back over to the start of the course, they noticed the Loyalist that spoke with them gesturing at the stop watch. He then pulled out a walky-talky and spoke into it. A man standing nearby at the end of the course looked up to both Task Force operators. "He's got your times. Scope has time of 3:59, Roach has 4:14. You would have been faster if you left him be Sergeant."

Yuna tilted her head as a look of disinterest filled her eyes. "Still beat the Sergeant here. That means if he got in a scrape in the field I can head back, help him out and still out run whatever was chasing me AND him. That's good enough for me."

The man considered this, then shrugged. "That's one way to look at it." A garbled voice over the radio squawks in his ear and he suddenly looks put off. He speaks sternly in Russian for a moment over the radio, then turns back to Yuna. "Lyosha is saying ungentlemanly things about you. I told him to keep his mouth shut before I force feed him the toilet brush in the men's latrine."

Yuna wasn't in the least surprised. She could tell from the way the man earlier was speaking to her that she guessed this was the case. "Yeah, I figured he might., isn't he your senior NCO though?"

"Perhaps, but rank does not excuse sexism. Mamma raised me better then to treat women so poorly." He laughed a bit and shook his head. "She would have taken a stick to me otherwise, and rightfully so." The Russian man extends his hand, which Yuna takes. "You are most excellent warrior Scope, and a loyal comrade. Men like Lyosha would have left his own behind, but you return for your own. I respect such conviction."

"You're a good man..." she trailed off, realizing she didn't get the man's name.

"Nikon Shishlov, Senior Sergeant. While I'm at it I have good news for both of you."

Roach raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What's the word?"

The senior Sergeant explained. "Price, Nikolai and Yuri are returning from Guinea by plane. They had hit small problem with the locals, but they managed to get everything required for your next mission and are arriving shortly by aircraft."

Roach noticed a small dot in the sky getting closer, laughing once he recognizing what it was. "Speaking of arrivals, look who it is!"

Gertrud descended to the ground with Ghost in tow and let him slip from her grasp once she was low enough to the ground. Ghost took a curt breath. "Hoo, still getting used to that." He noticed Roach's current state and looked him over in bemusement. "Hey mate, looking classy as always. What did I miss?" Nikon was at this point looking with mild confusion at Ghost and Gertrud.

Roach looked a little sheepish. "Yeah... I tried to get acquainted with the rope swing. Didn't take."

"I can see that. Fancied yourself a mud bath then?"

"He didn't do too shabby." Yuna interjected. " Managed to get ahead of me for a bit until the rope swing. He's getting better each day."

Ghost nods in approval. "So long as he's improving and keeping sharp, then there's no worries."

Gertrud smiles and crosses her arms. "That's commendable initiative; training hard and sharpening your skills shows good discipline."

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Captain Gertrud Barkhorn...<strong>

It was presently at this point that the group heard the sound of an aircraft approaching the small runway out in the field near the safe house. They were quick to figure out that it must have been Pice, Yuri and Nikolai returning from their mission. Ghost gestures over to the make shift runway. "Come on, better go greet Captain Price and the others." As he starts walking with Scope and Roach following he looks up to Soap who's still up on the balcony. "Hey, are you going to join us?"

Soap nods. "Too right, I'll be right down after I get Toad. I'll see ya at the runway mate."

Gertrud is about to follow when a pair of loyalist women approach while eyeing the young witch with interest. One of the women, with her hair tied into a bun, mechanics clothing and wearing a wedge cap speaks first. "Ah, comrade Captain, may we speak with you a moment?"

Gertrud eyes the two women questioningly. "Can I help you?" she asks, genuinely confused.

The other woman has closely cut, short blond hair, a cut on her lower lip, a scar over her eyebrow, goggles around her neck and the sleeves of her Battle Dress Tunic rolled up revealing a set of tattoos that Trudy couldn't quite make head or tail of. "Da, we heard in the compound that you managed to beat Ernov in a contest. We both wanted a chance to ask you a few questions?" she asked. She studied the young Captain studiously from head to toe. "Like how you were capable of such a feat?"

"Well if you're curious I always conduct morning calisthenics." She replies. "Chin ups and push-ups mostly, any exercise that helps condition my upper body." She raised her hand and focuses some of her magic power, a strong glow forming from her finger tips to just past her wrist. "Although my Superhuman Strength or "Super Physical Strengthening" magic helps maximize my normal physical abilities."

The women in combats laughed in amusement. "Ah! I see, I see! So you're a "She-Hulk" then!" The woman continued laughing, seemingly incredibly amused by Gertrud's abilities, although the witch Captain wasn't sure if the term "She-Hulk" was intended as a term of endearment or as an insult.

The other woman, however, was eyeing Gertrud's Striker's with a disconcerting look; with eyes that locked Squarely on her lower regions, a worrisome smile of desire and her hands flexing like Eila and Francesca when they are about to grope the breasts of other girls. "That's nice, but those interest me much more! May I see them, comrade?"

"Urm... w-what would you like to see, exactly?" Trudy stammered worriedly. From where she stood she honestly wasn't quite sure what this woman was looking at. And seeing as it was directed somewhere just below her waistline she feared what could be happening in the next three seconds. To her surprise, which was soon followed by mild relief, the woman crouched down and her head was immediately drawn to the Captains BF-109 Messerscharf.

"This machine of wonders of course!" She exclaimed. Her hands stroked the Captains left Striker Unit, feeling the machine of magically applied science gingerly, like a lover to her partner. "It's a marvel of marvels! How does it work exactly? And your legs: are they housed in the machine someplace? I don't understand how you could fit so many parts into something so small and allow it to be worn like boots."

Gobsmacked by the sudden intrusion into her personal space and upon her striker coupled with the sudden questions, Barkhorn struggled for a response. "Urm... the striker unit holds a p-pocket dimension that allows my legs to c-connect with the striker and providing space for the s-strikers inner workings, and it essentially is powered by my magic and helps boost my magical power-" The woman found one of the maintenance panels to the inside of the striker and was starting to open it. Gertrud noticed this and feared the woman tampering with her unit's internal parts. "CAN YOU PLEASE STOP TOUCHING MY STRIKER UNIT! IT'S SENSITIVE MILITARY EQUIPMENT!"

The woman in combat gear and the tattoos grabbed her friends collar and pulled her away from Gertrud. "That's enough Dosya. As skilled a mechanic as you are this is an unfamiliar machine for all of us, much less yourself. Do not tinker with things that are unknown."

Dosya looked unbothered by this fact. "It's fine, Kiza! Just give me ten minutes; if she lets me I can learn the ins and outs of this device in no time! It's a once in a life time opportunity for a mechanic like myself to see the heart of such an aeronautical miracle!" While still being held back by her comrade Dosya held a pleading expression at Barkhorn. "Please Captain: permit me the honor of glancing the inner workings of your machine!"

Kiza rolled her eyes and looked to the Captain in a pained, apologetic look. "Forgive Dosya, Captain. She's one of our more passionate mechanics; whenever she sees something new she wishes to take it apart, study each piece then put it together again. Her father was automobile mechanic in Chelyabinsk. She always had a passion for machinery, as you can plainly see." A forceful yank by the tattooed Loyalist brought Dosya back to the side of her comrade, Kiza then shot her a stern glare. "That's enough! Do not touch her equipment without her giving permission first! That is the second time this week that you've done something like this! You're almost as bad as that weird, womanizing sniper!"

Dosya scowled in disappointment. "Это не честно... Я никогда не мог бы получить такую возможность никогда снова..." she muttered.

"жестко." Kiza turned her attention back to Gertrud, who was at a bit of a loss, and placed her thumb beside her chin in curiosity. "Begging my pardon Captain, if I am being in any way forward, but I couldn't help but notice that you were carrying off Comrade Lieutenant Ghost. Is there a reason for that?"

"Oh? That? Well I was-"

"I know what it was!" Dosya interrupts with a look of excitement. "She wanted some "alone time" with the Lieutenant!" She emphasized "alone time" with infliction and made air-quotes with her fingers.

Gertrud's face turned red and she blinked rapidly. "W-wait what are you imply-"

She was interrupted again, this time by Kiza who's face lit up with understanding. "Ah, so that's what that was about; Fraternization between fellow officers! That is an age old story."

"What!" Gertrud shook her head and waved her hands from side to side. "N-n-no, no you've got it all wrong, it wasn't like that at all!"

Kiza chuckled and went into one of her pockets, pulling out a wallet and opening it, revealing pictures of her with several men, nearly all were very muscular in build. "Ah, it's alright: I've been no stranger to men's bodies. Each of these men here was a man I was fortunate enough to bed beside!" A satisfied smirk slowly crosses her. "I do enjoy males of physical prowess."

"Bu-but I don't-" Gertrud stammers but is unable to articulate her words, still flummoxed by the loyalist women's pre-conceived misconception of what really happened between her and Ghost.

Kiza suddenly becomes thoughtful and points to a picture of her and a man third from bottom, who was of a slimmer build then the other men she was photographed with. "He was exception though. Not much muscle then the other men I was used to... but he was very good at breaking joints. He was... interesting..." After her nostalgic musings she folded up her wallet and returned it to her pocket. "You are lucky you managed to get close to an Operator like the Task Force Lieutenant. He is strong man, in both body and will."

Dosya smiles and nods. "Ah, yes. The Lieutenant has things that make him a very attractive man." Her face dulls a little as her eyes fall on Kiza. "But unlike you I don't care for his muscles." A dreamy look then floods her face. "It's that air of mystery that surrounds him; he has a depth to his being. I love that in a man. The Captain is a women blessed to find such a man in her arms!"

"It's nothing like that!" Gertrud blurts out desperately. "We haven't even done anything! B-besides I-"

Both Loyalist women blink and both their mouths drop. Dosya pales at the apparent revelation. "You mean you haven't even gotten into... personal matters?! Вы дурак! You can't let a man like that fall through your fingers!"

"Da!" Kiza agrees. "She who hesitates is lost! Trust us Captain; if a man like that hasn't made any moves yet it is your job then to take initiative. It's the 21st century after all. Woman can have power in this day and age, you need to seize your opportunity." Gertrud is about to object when Kiza suddenly pulls out a packet from her pants pocket, takes the witches hand and places the packet into her palm. "Here, if it should come to a head you may need some of these."

Gertrud looked silently at the packet in her hand. She saw that it had some sort of strange pills held inside plastic and some sort of foil for a cover. After inspecting it for a while she looked up to the tattooed woman in confusion. "What exactly... is this?"

Kiza blinks. "Birth control pills of course!" she responds matter of factly. "Just take one and your good for the evening."

Gertrud was unusually silent for a moment, trying to process just what the loyalist woman just explained to her. Then the light bulb in her head went off: her face became as red as a stoplight. Her eye's became as wide as bowling balls and her mouth dropped wide open. "WHAT?!" She wasn't sure what she should be more surprised by: the fact people in this world had invented pills for such a thing or that apparently the women in front of her mistakenly thought she would need such pills.

"Don't worry, they're still new, and I have quite a few of them stocked up for emergencies. You put them to good use, хорошо?" She turns to her mechanic friend nudges her shoulder. "Come Dosya, you have duties to attend to while I carry out a campaign on Pankrati's pants."

Dosya laughs and follows after her tattooed friend. "Another conquest of the flesh, you must tell me of your secrets when you achieve ultimate victory."

After both women take their leave Gertrud is left sitting idle on the base grounds and staring wide eyed at the Birth control pills that she was left with. _I can't believe those presumptuous women. To think that the Lieutenant and I-_ Gertrud's face grew hotter when her mind wandered to the day Ghost imparted his past baggage to her and the earnestness of his interaction with her back in the clearing of the forest. _D-damn... the Lieutenant has too much to deal with much less..._ But she stops a moment and starts evaluating her feelings. _W-well... he's a good soldier. Exceptional in fact. And he has exceptional discipline on top of that. And I'm sure that... I know what with the ghost's that haunt him...but I'm not sure if... I don't know what's wrong with me, I've only had feelings like this only for Chr-_

She shook her head hard as the heat in her face doubled_. _She cringed to think what color her face was taking._ "Ah! More inappropriate thoughts! Stop it this instant Barkhorn, you are a grown woman and a soldier of Karlsland! You should have grown out of such feelings for Chris..." _As much as the rational, disciplined Karlsland solider in her berated these feelings she had for Chris since childhood, the loving doting older sister in her couldn't help but yearn for her little Christine's touch and embrace. To hear her voice again and do everything in her power to make her happy. A smile slowly crept onto her face once Chris's face entered her mind _"Beautiful, sweet, innocent Chris. Her shining eyes, her adorable smile, her soft skin-" _

Gertrud smacked herself in the head. "God damn I'm doing it again! Stop it! Get. A hold. Of yourself!" Her thoughts returned to her decision to stay for one more mission. Had she really made the right choice? Maybe, but... the thought of her dearest sister in tears at her missing older sister made Gertrud's heart heavy. Despite the fact that even in her world it was highly unorthodox, she couldn't help but feel this way for her little sister. If only she could reach through space and time and embrace her little sister and let her know that she was okay. If only she could stroke her head, comfort her and perhaps even... once again with those unwholesome thoughts! Gertrud's eyes focused back on the contraceptive in her hand and gritted her teeth. "This stupid set of pills is messing with my head and I haven't even taken any! I should dispose of these, they are a dangerous distraction-"

"Hello!"

"Ah!" Gertrud flinched at the sound of a voice coming from behind her. Turning around she saw a woman who was beaming a warm smile at her. The women had worn her white hair at shoulder length, and the most striking feature's she possessed was her fair skin and deep purple eyes. Trudy blinked absently as she tried to gauge the intentions of this woman. "Uh... h-hello. W-what do you want?" she asked, her tone guarded.

The woman looked Trudy up and down with a look of interest, her purple eyes traveling across every inch of Gertrud's body. Her gaze lingered on both the young witches bust and her nethers the longest. "My goodness you look gorgeous! Almost good enough to eat in fact!"

"Uh..." Trudy was at a loss. It was the first time someone had ever been quite this forward with her. The woman seemed very interested in Trudy for some reason, but the atmosphere around her seemed strange somehow. Almost jumbled, different then from when Yuna looked at her. Yuna had a calm, soothing air around her, and it was clear she possessed a more mature soul of sorts. This person, on the other hand, was a complete contrast to the Task Force Sniper. The woman looked down at the Captain's strikers, electing worry from the witch for fear she might man-handle them.

"I saw you flying in the sky; you looked beautiful while in flight. And I hear your strong too. Some have started calling you "The magical girl of the 141."

"Well... I am a witch; magic is a part of a witches nature." she responds with a little bit of stand-off tone.

"That's true... and these devices, they really suit you; you carry them very well. Military might mixed with magic: it's very appealing." Her eyes rested on Trudy's familiar ears and raised her hand. She took the familiars left ear in her hand and started to massage it between her fingers.

"H-hey, what's the meaning of this?!" Trudy's bleated in surprise.

The woman giggled. "So soft! Are these really real?"

With a blush, Gertrud nods. "Mm-hm." she grunts nervously. _She's in my personal space!_ She thought with alarm.

The woman's eye's gazed into Gertrud's own brightly, then she stepped forward. She promptly pressed her body up against the young Captain's and purred into her ear. "Perhaps I can show you a good time? Perchance a drink, maybe more?"

Gertrud wailed in panic. This was beyond forward! This woman was actually attracted to the strict regulation, unfeminine Karlsland Ace. What exactly was this woman's deal? However, having noticed this woman's appearance she remembered something spoken by the women from earlier. Something about a weird, womanizing sniper. It was then she realized just who this woman accosting her was. Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a pair of hands grabbing her buttocks. "What the hell?! Stop that: don't grab their!" She quickly batted away the wandering, grabby hands of the sniper, her face stuck once again in a deep red. She wasn't catching a break today; it was a trip through the peanut gallery.

The woman giggled. "Oh but your just too pretty to let an opportunity like that pass by." She then noticed the packet in the witches hands and suddenly her face turned into an expression of curiosity. "Are those birth control pills?" she asked innocently.

Trudy's hands shot to her back, trying to hide the packet of contraception pills. "Yes! I mean no! Uh, that is to say those two women from earlier thought I'd need them, when really I don't!" she spoke quickly, trying to awkwardly explain herself.

The fair skinned sniper smiled again. "Of course not! When you're in the arms of another woman you don't need such things." she replies.

The red tint on Gertrud's face only deepened and her mouth became slack. _This woman is incorrigible! It's too much!_ She thought to herself. While she had seen others act in such way in the past, never before had she been on the receiving end of such displays. It was time she started to pull rank on this solider, after all she was a Captain: she had to regain control of the situation. Her face hardened and she spoke with authority, although she was sure her blushing was likely undermining her attempts at enforcing the chain of command. "You're name solider! What is your name?!" she demanded.

"Ohhhh... such a serious face!" Her smile grew wider and she introduced herself to Trudy, extending her hand to the younger girl. "My name is Cryska. It's a pleasure to meet you." She put a little emphasis on the word "pleasure".

"Captain Gertrud Barkhorn" Undeterred, Trudy held her own. She accepted the handshake firmly. "You serve as one of the snipers under Nikolai's command, correct?" she asked sternly.

"Da, that is what I do, I'm impressed you caught that. That is my role and I am very good at it. But I must ask; you come from another reality, correct?"

Gertrud blinked, then nodded. "Yes. I'm assuming you heard all the details pertaining to that?"

"That's right. Also you come from a special military unit, correct?"

"That is also true, I serve in the 501st Joint Fighter Wing, also known as the Strike Witches." Trudy explained.

"And how many women are in your unit, if I may ask?"

Gertrud's face scrunched up in confusion. "All eleven members of the 501st are female, which also includes myself." she replies with confusion.

Cryska was positively glowing at this point. "Eleven! If the other ten girls are all as pretty as you then I have to find an opportunity to meet with them!" A dreamy look suddenly filled her eyes. "Eleven maidens of the sky... I must bed with these angels!"

_"...what have I done?"_ Gertrud lamented silently, having realized she had possibly awoken a storm unlike anything she or her fellow witches could fathom. The only solace is the fact that this strange woman would have to cross the very fabric of reality to get to the girls of 501st. And that seemed unlikely.

Cryska put her hands on Trudy's shoulders as she beamed happily. "One of these day's you must allow me to accompany you to your world, Captain. If the girls are as pretty as you and this is your standard issue uniform..." She gestures to Trudy's battledress uniform and combat gear, san's any pants of course. "...then such sights will be easy on the eyes after a hard day, da?" Gertrud's embarrassment were reaching levels immeasurable. Before she can respond to the sniper, Cryska noticed another of the few female Loyalist 's: a helicopter pilot wearing a flight suit and her helmet under her arm. Trudy figured that she must have been attractive, because Cryska silently watched as the woman passed the two of them by. With her eye's still focused on her next quarry, the Russian sniper smiles and pat's Trudy's shoulder. "I'll see you later Captain, I must do recon." She floats on after the helicopter pilot and after a few feet later gropes the female pilot from behind with one hand while the other travels to the pilots groin. The female pilot of course bleats in shock and tries prying the sniper off of her as some of the men who were watching give cheers and cat calls.

Gertrud was drained completely. She didn't know which of these girls were the worst: the tech crazy mechanic, the tattooed woman with a strong man fetish and had given her contraception, or the fair skinned, white haired sniper that was chasing pretty women left, right and center. To say Nikolai's comrades were a strange bunch would have been an understatement.

"Oi, Trudy!"

Gertrud jumped at the sound of Simon's voice over her headset radio, nearly dropping the packet of pills. She quickly answers. "Y-yes Lieutenant?" she asks with a forced tone of enthusiasm.

"Are you coming or what? Price and the others are stepping of the plane as we speak."

"Y-yeah, I'm on my way now." She hastily places the contraceptive into one of her pockets. "Looks like I'll have to get rid of this later. I better go and greet Captain Price and hear if the mission was a success." She already decided that she would aid the Task Force once more for this upcoming mission, she was not about to go back on her word. She shouldn't be second guessing herself like this. Giving the Striker a little thrust she started to fly over the safe house to the improvised airfield. It was a very short flight, and part of her didn't like using her Striker for such trivial, superficial use, but she decided that time was precious so it was moot either way. She spotted the group and descended to join the others in greeting the returning trio.

Toad arrives just as Gertrud descends to group with the others. He gives her a curt nod. "Hey, I see I'm not the only one last to arrive." he quips.

Roach grunted. "Yeah, what took ya Barkhorn? You were just behind us a moment ago."

"I was held up." she responded simply.

Ghost cocked his head, wearing a questioning look. "By what exactly?" he asked.

Gertrud's face turns red again. She tilts her helmet forward to hide her eyes and face, embarrassed of what the events were that had kept her so long. "Don't ask." She replies flatly.

The ramp to the plane opens as around six Loyalist personnel approach. They snap to attention as a winded Nikolai steps out and gives them orders. "Four of you, get the Cargo unloaded and you two..." he points to the last two men. "Have squads four through twenty prepared for embarking. Have them get their gear ready immediately and get two more infantry transport aircraft ready and pilots to fly them." The men respond in the affirmative and get to their tasking.

Price and Yuri step out of the aircraft next looking fatigued somewhat but still looking to be in good shape all around. Soap greats Price with a handshake. "You get it done and dusted old man?" he chided lightly.

Price nodded. "As always Soap, done and dusted almost to the letter. Got a little complicated on that last leg but it was manageable."

Yuri sighs. "With permission, your idea of manageable and my own are completely different, Captain Price." he responds. The Russian man looked as tired as he likely felt. The Task Force operators noticed that both he and Price had no magazines left in the pouches of their webbing, not to mention that Yuri was favoring one arm a little more than his other. That spoke more as to the situation than anything the three men could ever say.

Price disregarded Yuri's deadpan comment and turned his attention to Roach and Yuna noticing that both operators were covered from head to toe in mud, though Roach had a full covering. "What the bloody hell is the story with you two?"

Yuna straightened and gave a sharp response. "Training sir, we ran the obstacle course a few minutes ago." Roach straightened and nodded in agreement.

Price pursed his lips. "Well the two of you wash up, and all of you get yourselves ready to move out. All of us will be headed to another one of Nikolai's safe houses, this time in Africa. We'll be departing in a couple of hours so make sure to see the armourer and ensure you get everything you need to meet mission parameters. Is that clear?"

All the lower ranked operators gave a snap response in unison. "Yes, sir!" To them it was just another day, another mission, another run through the meat grinder. Business as usual.

"Good." He then looked to Gertrud. "Captain Barkhorn, I need a word if I can trouble you a moment. The rest of you are dismissed." The other operators went off to their tasks save for Gertrud, and surprisingly Ghost, who just stood idly. Price noticed this. "Is there a problem Lieutenant?"

Ghost shook his head. "No sir, just curious as to if you have something special in mind for Trudy."

The corner of the old British man's mouth hooked into a faint smile for the briefest of moments. "Smart lad. All the same I'd like a moment with her." Ghost finally complies and decides to give Price, Trudy and the others some distance, but kept within line of sight. The old Captain turned to Gertrud and studied her striker unit for a moment. "So, those Strikers... they can really fly then?" he asks slowly.

Gertrud nods and responds in true Karlslander fashion. "Yes sir!"

"Could you be so kind as to give us a quick demonstration?" He still had a tone of mild skepticism when he asked his question, but it was interesting to see him being open to the possibility of what Witches and Striker Technology can do.

Trudy smiled. "As you wish Captain." She gave the Striker unit's the throttle and strafed left. Rolling to face the direction she was traveling she got some more altitude and levelled out at about 500ft. The wind was blowing by and felt cool against her face. She still couldn't help but count her blessings at how precious flying was to her. She circled the runway twice while performing an assortment of aerobatic manoeuvres then returned to the exact spot she left. When she returned Yuri was staring wide eyed and with a closed, shifting mouth. Nikolai gave a low whistle in amazement.

Price meanwhile seemed intrigued for a moment. After studying the young Karlslander he grunted in approval. "Alright then. I guess you and these Strikers are the real deal Barkhorn." He then put forth another question. "Remind me, how exactly do you fuel these things exactly?"

"Normal Aircraft engine lubricant and motor oil would suffice in ensuring the parts run as they should. For an actual fuel source, well...you're talking to her. A striker not only boost's my magical powers but is also powered by my magic." she explains.

Price considered this for a second. "If that's the case, and you're powering this thing, then be sure to draw on a camel bag to keep hydrated and keep your tank full, so to speak. This mission just might become easier for us to complete; because you're going to serve as our "Danger close" air cover."

Gertrud blinked in surprise, then smiled with a determined look. "I'd be honored sir. I can also carry much more weapons and munitions then other witches back in my unit; my physical powers and my magic abilities allow me carry more into battle. If you require heavy fire support from the air, I can deliver it to you."

The corners of Prices mouth hooked into a subtle, approving smile. His weathered old eyes seemed to twinkle in response to Gertrud's declaration. His reservations of Gertrud's nature and the magic she was capable of seemed to have been cast aside. He now saw a fellow warrior with a highly unique skill set and a weapon system that no one else in the world possessed ready to hunt down one of the worst terrorist's in human history since Bin laden. He spoke with warm respect laced in his voice. "Good to hear, Captain. That is all, your dismissed."

* * *

><p><strong>September 2nd – 17:41:10<strong>

**101st Airborne Division**

**Manhattan, New York... 43 Reade Street...**

**Tracking... ****Eugene Lawarance Brooks AKA "Book's"****...**

"I forgot how much of a pain these things were," Books complained as he sat with the hatch open over his head.

"Who thought these things up?" the gunner complained next to him.

"Someone brown nosing Congress, who else," Books looked through his binoculars, the external sights for the commander were a happy memory, "Still, beats a Javelin any day of the week."

The 1128 Mobile Gun System was an attempt to up arm the standard M1126 Infantry Carrier Vehicle. The attempt could be summed up as not the best and even half decade after being introduced it was still problem riddled. Still, some improvements were made, such as increasing the safe ammunition storage to 28 rounds plus inclusion of a air conditioning unit for the computers. On the other hand, the crew still cooked in their uniforms unless equipped with special cooling vests and IV gear.

"Eyes on another tank," the radio crackled, the gunner was preparing to order the round in as the FO reported the range.

"Pull back," Books suddenly ordered the FO, "Something ain't right, watch yer flank on the way out too."

"O-kay, sure," the FO reported and did so and not more than 180 seconds later, "DAMMIT! You were right! They're getting an ambush set up and it wasn't for us!"

"You sure?" Books asked as he read the map in front of him.

"Wrong facing from our hiding perch!" the FO reported, but static began to build up in the radio, "Bastards would have been company strength right on top of us!" the gunfire began to die down a little as Books used his foot to indicate where to aim the turret, "Now we're only engaged with a platoon sized force, but we are, repeat, ARE Oscar Mike."

Books nodded as he then slammed his foot against the gunner's shoulder. It was an old, outdated technique for communications between crews, but Books could faintly smell them, the Russians, literally. He could smell their Russian smokes and their imported -as in brought with from Russia- vodka. The gunner put the pressure on the triggers for his gun as the driver began throwing them into reverse.

The HEAT shell exploded from the main gun. The overpressure of the blast shattered a thick one way window that had concealed them from the BMP-3 and the RPG totting tank killer squad it had with it. The glass scythed through the unprotected infantrymen, rending flesh and cutting them open, but not killing any of them. The HEAT round on the other hand passed by the Russian ICV and smashed into a T-90 at rest, bouncing to a funny angle on the clam shell turret, but hitting the hull in a thin spot.

In typical fashion thereafter, the T-90's turret flew into the air on a pillar of flame before coming back down, crushing the turret of the BTR-3, already damaged by debris and shrapnel from the T-90's destroyed hull. With a track wrecked, hull pitted and smoldering, and the turret wrecked beyond repair, the BTR-3 was a lame duck. The surviving infantrymen weren't, but the 105 armed Stryker was already off, as silent as the M1 Abrams series, much to the Russians anger.

Back in the headquarters for the local US forces, the American commanders spotted a sudden thermal bloom on a Predator's sensors. A quick series of maneuvers revealed -long enough to see and hide- a pair of wrecked Russian vehicles and a lot of wounded Russians. There were a few dead, some stapled to a ruined building's wall by debris from the T-90, but not many. They dare not, though, risk the drone to find out why there were suddenly two wrecks.

They didn't need too, as the drone had caught an image of some US soldiers hightailing it from a pair of Russian platoons.

At least they had an idea of the Russian defense line now.

"You know gunner, driver," Books still hadn't learned their names, he planned to change that, but first, "During the Battle of Stalingrad, the Germans of the 6th Army called the urban fighting they were doing Rattenkrieg or Rat War," as the MGS swung around another corner only to come face to face with a shocked company of Russian tanks, AFVs, and infantry, "And this is pretty much why."

The gunner didn't wait for an order, he just started shooting as the driver charged head first into the Russian encampment. The Russians attempted to respond, but the vehicle tore through their lines and they nearly killed the BMPs that had been pursuing Books and his little command. The gunner was firing away at any target that was going to be a quick kill. That said, he only got three tanks and a pair of BMPs while Books used the improvised added M240 to shoot up a couple of trucks, a GAZ, and several officers who had been stupidly together. Then they were clear and running, the driver adding to the tally by smashing aside a truck and ramming another GAZ into a building as he turned the wheel hard over and floored it.

"Not bad, not bad," Books said without much thought as he tried to remember the rank tabs of the officers he shot.

"How can you say that?!" the gunner demanded in anger, he was finally boiling over after all playing hide and seek with the Russian forces for the last few days, "How can you be so cavalier? We're surrounded dammit!"

"I was in the Airborne," Sgt. Books dropped down into the turret, narrowly being missed by a Russian sniper and he growled about it, "It was part of the mission orders to always go where we would be surrounded," he looked at his map, their GPS was also shot, literally, "So quit complaining and check the ammo count. Take a left driver," and the man did, just as a anti-tank missile passed by them, "Another left and then a sharp right then floor it for two blocks and another sharp right," as he spoke the Hind that had picked them up was pursuing them, but the driver followed the orders and the Hind missed a second time and before the pilot could react, flew into the collapsed upper levels of a toppled skyscraper, "Never fly those things that low unless you know where you are," Brooks shook his head as the Stryker soon rejoined the FO team and the rest of their small ad-hoc force, a Russian BMP finding a Javelin going through its roof as it still pursued.

As soon as the vehicle was parked, the gunner gave an ammo count, "Top it all off, full load and see if you can't stick a round or two more in, if possible," and with that Brooks was off to meet with the Air Force major of military police who found himself in command of this little scratch force, though he stopped long enough off to the side to complete his vomiting out of sight of his crew and the other soldiers, though a civ saw him and he smiled, "A touch of food poisoning, nothing new in war," he stated and cleaned himself up and moved along to meet the major who didn't say anything about the bit that was missed on the collar, just throwing a used rag to the sergeant to clean it off.

* * *

><p><strong>501st Joint fighter Wing - Strike Witches- Witches Base Romanga<strong>

**1319hrs Zulu...**

**Tracking... Wing Commander Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke...**

"Please sir, I must sincerely request permission to enact the measures required to find Captain Barkhorn. The 501st Joint fighter wing is ready and willing to conduct search and rescue operations, all I need is clearance."

Minna was a woman run ragged. Everything was compounding on her psyche mercilessly for the past month and few days. Not enough that she had to deal with Neuroi attacks, Troublesome Brass or trying to get the new Recruits of the 78th Tame Witches up to standard in terms of their combat readiness, but worst of all the fact that Gertrud was officially listed as MIA was hitting her hard. She had been fighting with command to get clearance to conduct operations to find Trudy, but up till now she was rebuffed and rejected. She had orders to focus on her duties and missions. She hated the fact that she was consistently being denied, and many times she argued passionately that she couldn't just write off Captain Barkhorn as Missing in Action.

But sadly she was thus far denied clearance; on three occasions she was actually threatened with disciplinary action if she pressed further. Recently one such General gave a dire ultimatum that didn't sit well with her... she would go so far to classify it was a threat. She rebuked it fortunately by stating that what this particular General was threatening to do would be considered conduct unbecoming and breaking about six different military laws that could result in him being placed in the stockade and stripped of his rank and pension, if not worse. That shut him up and quick. But she was still without clearance. Even Hugh Dowding, much to his regret, was unable to procure any sort of progress this time, save for a long shot...

Minna had her orders, and she required the green light from those in the chain of command to allow her to find and rescue Trudy. Her last chance was to get clearance from one of the members of the Joint war cabinet. She was near pleading with Dwight David Eisenhower, or "Ike" as he was often known, to be allowed to pursue search and rescue for her missing squad mate.

Major Sakamoto had just walked into the Wing Commanders office and had noticed Minna speaking into the phone. Minna continued to speak and listen to the voice over the phone as Mio waited stoically. She too, like the other girls, wanted to go and find Captain Barkhorn, but she was a soldier. They both were. Even if they were ready and willing they had to follow orders. Chain of command was a vital component in the military. Anyone who acted without consulting those within the chain of command often faced strict punishments. And that was something that neither officers of the Strike Witches wanted or needed right now.

After about twelve minutes Minna's face was straight and stoic, but after a particular garble from the receiver she blinked, as if waking up from a bad dream. "Sir?" Another garble and Minna stiffened. "Thank you sir..." She slowly placed the receiver on the hook, her arms then rest on her desk and stared at the phone for a while.

Mio was starting to grow concerned. Was it bad news? Was she denied clearance yet again? "Is everything aright, Minna?" she asked, concern ringing in her voice. "What's the word from the Joint War Cabinet? Did they give us clearance?" There was an uncomfortable pause of silence. The Major held her breath. No reply? Did that mean... were they denied? "Or... did they..."

Minna buried her face in her hands for and took a deep breath. She wiped her eyes and her hands then traveled to the bottom of her face. Her eyes met with her Second in command and a look of relief flooded her. "We have been given the necessary clearance, Major. We can..." Her eye's fell upon her desk again, still taking some time to take everything in. "We can finally get to work on finding Barkhorn.."

Mio breathed a deep sigh. "That's a relief. It's been far too long for us to start rescue efforts. I don't understand why we would have to make us go to such lengths to even get permission to find one of our girls." The orders allowing the 501st clearance to find Trudy was the first good news she had heard all month, but she was still not happy that it took them this long to finally be allowed to do so.

Minna's body sagged and her face turned rueful. "I know how you feel Major... unfortunately the Neuroi were becoming more aggressive. The enemy has sent larger numbers of their more veteran units to attack both our conventional forces and other witch squadrons. We've had eight raid attempts over the course of one week. That's 24 raids in just one month, and that was just our wing and the 78th Tame Witches. Some of the other units have had even worse to deal with. I guess... command just wanted all of the witches they currently had on full combat alert and keep us focused on repelling Neuroi assaults. "

"Yes..." Mio conceded. "It is strange that the enemy would be trying to make such a push like this." She supposed that perhaps this made some sort of sense; though she still wasn't exactly thrilled with it.

"They must be desperate, or maybe impatient. I get the feeling they are trying to push onto our base grounds to utilize the only stable portal that we currently have control of. They want to establish a beachhead in the other world so they can grow their numbers and wipe us out." Minna rubbed her cheek absently. "We managed to repel most of the Neuroi's assaults, but we have been starting to reach our limits. We need rest, badly."

Mio nodded. "That's true. I've heard how the Witches Fighter Wing stationed near Orussia has the busiest fronts in the entire European theater. They have an entire force of hives on and within the Orussian borders to contend with. If it's even anything remotely like this, then I really have to respect their courage for holding the line for as long as they have."

A bitter look suddenly surged into Minna's face. "Damn it..."

Mio blinked. "What is it?"

"Those damn Neuroi... they never rest, do they? And because of that we can't either. They won't even let us have even a little time to find Trudy." She looked up to Mio with a look of pain in her eyes. "One of my...one of OUR girls is lost somewhere in that other world and... and I don't know what's HAPPENING to her! I don't know if she's safe! I don't even know if she's still-" Minna's fist shot to her mouth, a look of horror of what she was about to even utter as she bit down on her knuckle. "I-if she's still..." She moves her hand to her forehead as she feels a terrible pounding feeling in her skull. Her stress levels were starting to physically affect her, her eyes starting to fill with tears.

"Minna..."

The Major could see what sort of toll was being taken on the Karlsland Wing Commander. Her red hair had become tussled somewhat from her free hands idleness. Her eye's looked weary with bags forming under her eyes from a number of sleepless nights. The tunic of her uniform was completely unbuttoned and she struggled and fought to keep her voice even. The Major had to confess that the only time she ever saw the Wing Commander like this was when the Fuso Warrior was shot down by the Human-form Neuroi a while back. Minna worried herself sick over Mio's safety, what with her shield being so weak that she may as well have not had one. Mio still wanted to stay in combat and fight to protect humanity, but even with her stubbornness and her adamant desire to stay fighting beside her comrades, seeing Minna constantly fear for her safety made something move in her heart, though she had to admit she didn't know what it was. And now she was worried sick for the safety of Captain Barkhorn, a fellow Karlslander and her friend.

Minna looked to Mio, her eyes still looking tired. "How's... Heartmann holding up?" she asked slowly.

Mio wore an apologetic look. "She's still locked in her room." She confessed. "Didn't even come to breakfast today. At least that bad smell isn't coming from her room... well not as bad at least."

Minna rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I did give her orders to bathe when that... smell, was starting to permeate her side of the barracks a week and a half ago. Shirley and Perrine and some of the other personnel have told me that she only left for food and to make trips to the latrine."

"I heard she isn't even going to the mess hall anymore. I have seen her shower... but I can tell she's not putting in much effort in maintaining her hygiene." The major looked thoughtful for a moment. "Sanya did say that she and Erica talked for a while a three days ago but she noticed that Heartmann wasn't exactly herself..."

"She's taking it pretty hard..." Minna lamented. "I don't blame her... the three of us were together when Karlsland fell. And now one of our friends is missing and we have no idea what has happened to her since her disappearance. All the other girls are handling it their own ways but... I can see it in their eyes..." A guilty look then flooded her. "I had to send Erica to break the news to Barkhorn's sister; to tell Chris what had happened. I never wanted for a day like that to come... but I'm the CO. It's my job." She felt the sting of the tears pooling further and brimming in her eyes as her voice began wavering. "The only thing the hospital staff has told me each time I called is that she..." Minna hesitated. "She's still crying Mio. She hasn't stopped crying for her big sister. I... I never wanted to see Chris in such pain. But because Barkhorn is-" Minna could feel the tears starting to roll down her cheeks despite herself, unable to hold back her emotions anymore. "Mio I... I failed her. I'm her commander and I have... I have failed my subordinate! I'm supposed to keep all you girls safe! But I..." her voice trailed off as her words failed her, she was unable to continue as she wept in near silence.

Mio felt a heaviness in her heart at seeing the Lieutenant Colonel like this. She bit her lip in unease; what was she to do? She was a soldier: what could she do to help her commanding officer? After a few seconds a thought comes to her. She approached Minna and placed her hand on her commanders shoulder and gave a tender squeeze on her shoulder blade. She needed support, so the Major was going to give it to her. Minna took notice of the Major's hand, her own hand slowly reached for and grasped it. Minna drew a deep, shaky breath. She felt a sense of ease knowing that Mio was there. The major knew it was a small gesture, and likely it wouldn't have had much effect, at least in her own mind, but she felt like she should do something. Unbeknownst to her this seemingly small gesture carried the greatest weight to her Commander.

Mio Sakamoto spoke softly. "Everything will be alright Minna. Barkhorn is a damn strong girl, and most importantly; she isn't alone. All we have to do is focus all our energy on finding her somehow."

Minna looked into Mio's eye, seeing a look of warmth shining at her. Mio was always like that: a woman of proud strength and determination, no matter the odds. The wing commander had to be resigned to the fact that both Mio and Yoshika had that level of troublesome determination and stubbornness that she felt would be status quo around here. At least Mio knew when to show that soft side that most other people infrequently see. Minna felt her will returning; knowing that Mio still had faith in her as a superior officer and as her friend was just what she needed. Minna wiped her eyes dry and dug deep for her resolve. She wasn't going to find Barkhorn by crying from behind her desk.

"You're right Major. Tear's aren't going to bring the Captain back. We must take action, immediately!" Minna stood up promptly from her chair, buttoned up her tunic and retrieved her wedge cap. Once her wedge was placed snuggly upon her head she turned to Mio with a warm look. "Thank you, Major."

Mio just gave a subdued smile in return. "It's alright. You'd do the same for me."

With her will returning to its fullest she made her way to the door at a quickened pace. "Come, we're going to conduct our search for Captain Barkhorn." She said as she walked into the halls towards the base grounds.

Mio followed, but her eyebrow hitched questioningly. "Sounds like a plan, but how would you recommend we proceed?" she asked.

"Well she's in the other world. Who else can we ask to help us find her then the people in that world?"

Mio's mouth shifted. "Sounds good in theory. Do you think they will help us?"

"We'll find a way to convince them." Came a firm response. "Those men from Hunter-2-1 are our best candidates to helping us find Gertrud. At the very least their country would have the knowledge and resources to find her."

"And I'm guessing Ursula is going to help us get their?" Mio asks.

Minna smiled. "You catch on quickly Major. That's exactly the plan I had in mind. Since the two of us are the ranking officers of this unit, we will have to meet with the commanding officers of the other world. Seeing as neither of us will be here for a while, we'll have to assign temporary command of the 501st to Shirley."

Mio blinked as the two of them managed to find their way traveling onto the base grounds. "Yeager in command? Wouldn't this be the first time she was placed in temporary control of the unit."

Minna nods. "It's usually Trudy's job should both of us be off base to take care of running things smoothly, but seeing as she's MIA Yeager is the only other ranking officer next in the chain of command to oversee base operations and provide the girls with proper direction and orders."

Mio couldn't help but shudder a little. "Ancestors guide us." She muttered. "I never imagined I'd see the day that Charlotte would be in command of the 501st. "

Minna chuckled. "Oh, come now. It won't be that bad, I'm sure Shirley will be able to get a handle on things while we're gone. Besides, it could be good for her to get some experience in a position of command. She may be a little laidback, but she is a capable officer. Like you once said; she's straightforward. It will be good for her to gain some experience commanding the wing while we're gone." Mio released a reserved, throaty groan of concern but said nothing. Making their way across the grounds they finally reach the Striker hanger and notice most of the girls preparing to embark on their training exercises. Minna notices Shirley leaving the hanger with Lucchini following, each girls holding an American rifle of varying types and wearing their strikers, followed by members of the 78th. She approaches Shirley and motions the Liberion front and center. "Shirley, could I have a word with you a moment?"

Shirley blinked and approached the wing commander with a smile. "Hey Commander, what's up?"

"Are you girls heading out to conduct the joint training exercise?" she asked.

Shirley nods. "Yeah, we're just about to head out now mamm."

"That's good, but before you do I want you to know that the Major and I will be going to the other world to see if we can find Trudy. Command has seen fit to grant us clearance to find her." Shirley blinked in surprise. Before she can say anything however Minna continued. "While the two of us are meeting with the people in charge in that world, you will be placed in charge of the 501st until we return. In other words; you are to serve as temporary CO of the Strike Witches."

Shirley was stunned by the news. After staring at Minna as though something had latched onto the Commander's face her mouth dropped. "Wait, what?! Me?! In command!?" she exclaimed.

Minna smiled warmly. "Congratulations, Captain. Make sure everything is in order until we return, alright?"

Lucchini marvelled at Shirley in excitement. "Oh wow, Shirley! You're actually in command! That means you can give everyone a whole bunch of orders and they'd have to do as you say! That is sooooooo coooool!~"

Captain Marwick's surprise soon gave way to resignation. "Captain Yeager in command of the 501st?" Her hand found its way to her face in dread. "Whelp, there goes the war." she deadpanned. The reaction's of the other girls of the 78th were mixed in that regard.

Once the news sunk in, Shirley suddenly straightened as Minna awaited her response. "Mamm! I'll make you proud; I promise I'll keep command of this base running smoothly. Hell, it'll be better then you left it once I'm done!" Shirley laughed weakly. "Man, I'm actually in charge of the base? That's almost as surprising as finding out that I'm a guy in another reality."

All the witches turn to Yeager in surprise as only one word flatly escaped all parties within earshot. "What?"

Shirley blinked as her face started taking a red hue, having realized something. "...wait...did I just say that out loud?"

Lucchini was quick to become irate at the unwelcome possibility. "A GUY?! YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT IN THE RANGER'S WORLD YOU DON'T HAVE ANY BOOBS!? THAT'S IMPOSSIBULE! THAT'S SUCH A LAME LOAD OF STUPID! SHIRLEY HAS THE GREATEST RACK KNOWN TO MAN: WITH OUT YOUR BOOBS THEN THE WORLD WOULD BE DOOMED AND I'D HAVE NO FUN ANYMORE!" Lucchini glided with her strikers over to Shirley and buried herself in the Liberion girl's cleavage. "PLEASE DON'T GO BOOBIES! YOU MAKE THE WORLD BETTER JUST BY BOUNCING!"

Mio blinked, then laughed uneasily once she fully took in Shirley's bizarre little tidbit. "Uh...well, that's very... surprising. I don't think we should dwell on that very much..."

Minna also gave a nervous chuckle. "I suppose that makes two of us Major." she agreed. She started to earnestly wonder just what other weird differences there were in the other reality. Presently a voice then rang out from behind Minna and Mio.

"Commander! Major! Can I speak to you for a moment!" Both older girls turn to notice Eila approaching and waving to the two older girls, and Sanya closely following behind her.

"Eila, is something the matter? We were just about head out to-"

"You're headed to the other world to find the Captain, right?!" Eila interrupts Minna with a breathless question, a look of determination in her tired eyes.

Minna blinks. "Yes, that's exactly what we were about to do. How did-" A look of realization came to Minna. "I see. You foresaw this, didn't you?"

Eila;s determination seemed to shift into embarrassment "W-well, yeah. I um... that is... I...we..."

Sanya gave a small smile as she gently nudged Eila's shoulder. "Eila and I would both like to come and help you. We're requesting permission to join you." Eila's head snapped to Sanya for a moment before she looked back at the commander and nodded as her cheeks became flushed.

Mio crossed her arms and studied the two girls for a moment with interest. "Is that so? Am I to understand that you both wish to help find Captain Barkhorn?"

Sanya nods affirmative, but Eila had a look of urgency spring to her face. "It's not the only thing!" She blurted out. She caught her tone of voice and tried to speak with a measure of calm. "There's something else. I had a vision that there may have been danger with you leaving." A look of uncertainty then crossed her as she continued. "If you're walking into trouble then I think... Sanya and I want to go and watch your back if something happens."

Minna looked a little concerned at hearing this news. "A vision of danger? Are you sure about that, Elia?"

Eila's face tightened in worry. "I... I think so. The vision wasn't really clear on the details, but I could get the impression... or.. that is I think the impression is..."

"It's alright. If you feel so strongly then you have permission to join us into the Ranger's world. But just so you're made aware, we aren't sure where this portal is going to take us. We should ensure that we are ready for anything; bring you're secondary weapons and sidearm's in case we face any hostility that we can't use words to solve."

Both Eila and Sanya caught their breaths, both looked uncomfortable at hearing the orders to bring weapons into the other world. Eila seemed to be sweating a little at the implication the Wing Commander was making. "Our weapons? You mean we might have to shoot actual people?!"

Minna's face turned stern. "Like the Ranger's and both the men of Task Force 141 had explained; their world is engulfed in a globe spanning conflict involving human on human warfare. No doubt wherever we wind up could be extremely dangerous for us." Minna's eyes traveled to Mio, her gaze resting on the Major for much longer then she intended. She still felt concern for the Fuso woman and the fact that her magic was starting to fail. She continued to explain with this concern in mind. "I might not like the idea of it myself, but if it means that we all come home alive then we must be prepared to defend ourselves. We are soldiers after all. If you both really want to join the two of us in crossing the threshold or if you're having second thoughts and wish to stay then either decision is fine. But make it now. All I ask is you be aware of what it is your volunteering for."

Both girls silently considered this for a moment, worried looks in their eyes that was directed towards one another. After going through their thoughts on their ultimate decision they both nod. "Yes mamm: We're going." they both respond.

Lucchini suddenly turned to Eila and Sanya with an incredulous look. "You guys won't believe this! Before they left Shirley heard from the Ranger's that she's a guy in their world! Isn't that weird?"

Shirley almost keeled over in shock. "H-hey, Francesca! Don't go blabbing that to everyone! It's weird enough that a version of myself doesn't have girl parts in that world without you sharing it with everyone on base!"

"But it's WEIRD!" A lot of the witches present seemed to blush in embarrassment or agreed that it was pretty weird. Then again who could blame them?

Eila blinked, not believing what she was hearing. "Wait, you're a man in that world the guys were from? How the hell does that even work?!"

Sanya seemed thoughtful for a moment. "I can't really picture that to be honest. I've only known Charlotte as a girl, I have no idea what she would be like as a man."

"Yeah, that is pretty strange. I can't really picture Shirley as a guy either." Eila agreed.

Minna sighed. "Alright, that's enough. We have more pressing matters to be worried about." She turns to Captain Marwick. "Forgive me Lieutenant, but will the 78th be alright reinforcing the 501st while the four of us are away?"

Marwick nodded. "Not a problem at all mamm, I'll see to it that my girls have yours covered. I'll even see to forming a night witch squad to take over Flying Officer Litvyak's night patrol duties." she promised.

Jenna rests one hand on her hip and gestured to herself.. "I'll do my share too mamm, make sure the girls in the tank strikers are to standard. Some of the girls who were wounded a while ago have also seemed to have gotten better or so the doctors told me. They should be good for active duty again... or at least most of them."

"And what of Darya and the witch who lost her arm; Sergeant Erin Taylor?" Minna inquired. She held concerns for the two witches of the 78th who lost limbs in battle. It was a far too common injury for soldiers to lose an arm or leg to Neuroi laser fire, fifty percent of enemy grazing fire resulted in this type of injury. Forty percent of wounds sustained was owed to detonation of munitions and other explosions contributed to Neuroi weapons fire. The remaining ten were due to grazes that left second to third degree burns, infections due to wounds or environmental conditions and other assorted problems .

Jenna seemed surprised, but she became somewhat uncomfortable as she gave her answer. "Sergeant Taylor is still healing her wound, there was some minor infection so her recovery will take some time. Darya is the better of the two; she isn't in any pain, the doctor said that this week will be the last for her to be kept in observation while in post op."

"Very well, I'd like to hear a final appraisal of their overall conditions when we return. As you were everyone." At that, She and Mio made a path to Ursula over at the event horizon while everyone was off to their training. Eila and Sanya rushed to the hanger to retrieve their respective weapons and retrieve their strikers. Presently the two witch officers happen across the portal with Ursula and her colleges studying the area as well as the young witch inventor shifting her attention between her equipment, the portal and some other work. She was clearly running full tilt in her work. Minna greeted her. "Ursula, how's the work coming?"

"Very well." She replies absently. With her eyes still glued to a monitor's screen her hands shoot for a table with a stack of papers and digs through them. From the pile she pulls out a MAPPED, but Minna notices that it seems to have some changes to its initial prototype appearance. "After some study, gathering data and tinkering with the MAPPED, I've managed to improve the prototype by maximizing the power of the miniature magic engine, and installing a small computing system into the device. The MAPPED should create new portals anywhere between the two realities, manipulate existing ones by drawing either to stabilize the portals and even close portals by diffusing the concentrated either stabilizing a portal in case of Neuroi manipulation and potential use. One other feature is that you can also set the amount of either that is drawn into the portal by proxy though the MAPPED's immediate environment or even its user if need be to give ether a smooth trip for casual use and diplomatic missions or to use tactically for sorties into enemy territory by spring boarding travelers onto battlefields." As an afterthought she added. "I ran some simulations; this new MAPPED might be a little touchy though; it may not drop you into the exact coordinates and there is a possibility for overheating on its power and calculation systems. Still needs some tests in wither if these can be fixed or how to go about correcting whatever other glitches that may show up. But it's an improvement over the prototype by quite a bit."

Minna absorbed all this information for a while as she took the MAPPED that Ursula held out to her. Minna also noticed that the MAPPED had a band, which she assumed would allow it to fit on her wrist."So this can use either and our own magic to let us form portal's at will instead of waiting for naturally ideal conditions for a potential tear to appear in space and time to occur?" She asked after slipping it on.

"Yup, gives us some more control in that regard. But I made sure to install safety measures to ensure that if a witch fed the MAPPED her magic that it would only draw on a small quantity, such measures should prevent draining large amounts. Drawing too much of a witches magic would be dangerous so the safely percussions would only take an absolute minimum of a witches magical reserves. Think of it as a specialized limiter of sorts with this function in mind."

Mio seemed somewhat pleased by this. "That's good to hear. Has there been any other developments on your end?"

Ursula's hands traveled back to the table and dug out a set of blue prints. "I've also been working out the kinks on the Either Jet Striker's as well. I've been working closely with the members of the Preliminary Evaluation Squadron; compiling, evaluating and analysing data on both my end as well as theirs in regards to the Jet Striker's refinement. It's a slow development, but it's still a steady one; hopefully witches can operate Either Jet Striker's without a repeat incident involving Captain Barkhorn, among others. So far only witches like Helma Lennartz can operate them without incident."

Minna read through the blueprints, noticing occasional formula and notes scribbled in key parts noticing flaws in need of correcting or improvements to the initial designs. She set the prints aside with a stern look. "Until it's completely overhauled and brought to perfection: I won't be risking any of my girls in testing them I'm afraid."

"I understand mamm. Hopefully we can reach that point in its development." She conceded. She understood the Wing Commander's feelings regarding the safety of the witches. She too wanted to avoid losing girls to weapons testing and trial runs. To her it was as bad, if not worse than, losing friends in combat. Especially because if something she invented caused in injury or death of a fellow witch, then their blood would be on her hands. That is the reason she always pushed herself in her work; to ensure that whatever she invented, created or modified wouldn't hurt the people she was supposed to help.

Minna could hear the sound of two striker unit's approaching. It was apparent that it didn't take very long for Eila and Sanya to arrive front and center. Eila Carried with her an MG42 and her infrequently used Suomi KP/-31. Sanya meanwhile had her Fliegerhammer with her, currently being held in her hands.

Mio looked to the two witches of Orussia and Suomus gazed at them expectantly. "Ah, good, you have your equipment. Are you both ready?" she asked. Both girls give their affirmations and await their commanding officers to initiate disembarking. Mio turned to Minna and nodded. "I'm ready too." she said at last.

Minna nods. "Alright, I'll initiate the MAPPED's inter-dimensional transportation routines. Be sure to stay close to each other, it will be the first time this particular device will be used." After manipulating the MAPPED's interface she turns back to Ursula. After hesitating a moment as something began to worry her, she speaks to the Karlsland inventor. "Wish us luck..."

Ursula could read and understand the look Minna had and responded. "Don't worry too much about my sister Mamm, I'll take care of Erica while you guys are looking for the Captain..." She saluted to the Wing Commander, which was then returned. "...good luck. You take care of each other, alright?"

Minna smiled. "We will. Take care of yourself, Flying Officer." With that Minna manipulated a control on the MAPPED. The small machine made a particular whirring noise and gave off a small but bright blue glow. The rune Minna and the other girls stood inside of started to glow brightly as raw either began to open the doorway to the other world. It wasn't long that as they were bathed in an intense, bright white light that they could feel a tingling sensation. To everyone around them they could see the three witches disappear in a pillar of blinding light.

* * *

><p>As they were flying away from the base to begin training exercises Shirley and Lucchini glanced over their shoulders and watched as Minna, Mio, Eila and Sanya disappeared in the light of the Rune, with the light soon dying away after the four girls vanished.<p>

"Well, there they go." Shirley was still impressed with the nature of the rune on the base grounds and how the four girls could be their one minute and then gone the next. It still required some getting used to.

Luchini's gaze last's on the run for a while now, as she flies both it and the base seem to get smaller and smaller. When she finally replies her voice is flat sounding. "Yeah..." She turns to Shirley quizzically. "They're going to be okay right?"

Shirley shot a wide grin of reassurance. "Of course they will. Minna and Mio are officers and both Eila and Sanya are good soldiers in what they are good at. Those four will be alright."

A sudden, forlorn look found itself on Lucchini's face. "Do you think... will they find the Captain?" she asked.

Shirley seemed stunned by the question made by her small battle partner at that. She remembered the whole incident with the jet striker and how worried she was when Trude crashed and some of the other close shaves caused by the damned thing. Without seeing her squad mate and friendly rival for over a month was a hard time for the Liberion girl. She couldn't help but worry for the strict Karlslander. Her smiled faded for a moment. "I hope so kiddo... really hope so..." but for the sake of her small friend she forced a smile, but it wasn't a true smile. "They'll bring her back... I'm sure of it..." It was just a mask, hiding her true feelings. She hoped that the little witch wouldn't see past it...

* * *

><p><strong>September 2nd – 18:33:45<strong>

**Hunter-2-1 75th Ranger Regiment fighting alongside ****4th Marine Division, 4th Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion to Neutralize Russian Artillery Battery and patrols...**

**The Bronx, New York... **

**Tracking... ****Sergeant David "Sean" Foley... **

"How many of em?"

Foley glanced from Morgan to the street and counted off. With the Russian's now facing the hammer blow of the American counter attack, the Seal team and Delta boys were going to take control of the Russian Missile Sub sitting idle in the salty waters. While that was going on the American's were now dead set on routing enemy units and targeting key support assets. Hunter-2-1, Hunter-2-2 and the Reserve Marines were tasked with hitting a Russian Artillery battery nestled somewhere in the city out of reach of the main lines. The ad-hoc force of light and motorized infantry had already come across about five patrols that they put down with only moderate effort. Without artillery it will be one less support asset for the Russians to hammer the American units fighting in a bloody meat grinder, another thing to push the enemy back until the Russian Navy could be sunk. When that happens the enemy will HAVE to retreat or face outright destruction. "Ten plus hostiles on patrol...standard rifle squad with riflemen, grenadiers and gunners... hrm... and two with RPG's on their backs for good measure." It was clear that until these missions were completed that Ivan was going to give them a hard fight.

"Is that it?"

"Negative, a couple UAZ's mixed in as well. About three of em with gunners in the back. "

Sound's from the second floor of the ruined apartment kept Foley and the other's in relative silence save for a soft whisper. The men didn't dare make a sound what with this many men currently within a hairs breath of them. Any sound they made would give away their position to the enemy and that would be the end of it. So as the old saying goes: silence is golden. The Russians were moving through the building that Foley and the men with him were perched on and finally moved into the adjacent structure, or at least what little of it was standing.

Private Morgan exhaled, his M240's barrel slowly tracking the movement of the Russian patrol. He was ready and waiting. "So what do we do?"

Foley glances over to a intersection one block down the street from their position. "Laymen, Zander and the others have set hidden charges of explosive in some vehicles in that intersection. Once the columns half-way though they will blow the explosive, then hit Ivan with a ambush on either side of the street." Foley quickly sent a message on his headset radio. "Everyone in position?"

Dunn spoke quietly over the comms. "Roger that, we're in position. We got the AT4's ready for your go."

"And the reserve Marines?"

"Laying in wait for the command a few blocks across Sarge, they've taken positions inside the apartment building not far from the Russian arty."

"Good, once we neutralize these guys we make a push to the Russian artillery battery seven blocks over. Unless we get this job done a lot of our guys are not going to be having a good day, hooah?"

"Roger. I'm going to need some aspirin after this; today's been nothing but headache after headache."

"Stay frosty Corporal, we'll all find some relief pretty soon."

Dunn scoffs. "Want me to write out a prescription for ya Sarge?"

"I'll take a rain check on that. Get ready on my mark." Foley had to keep himself from laughing at Dunn's dry sense of humor. The Corporal always had a fast mouth and a sharp tongue when it came to snark. The older Ranger turns to Morgan, McCord and a couple other Ranger's with him on the roof, putting his binoculars away and gesturing to the street. "On my go we drop these guys, link up with the Reserve Marines, then carry onto our next objective. You boys ready?"

Morgan nods. "Yeah, I'm topped up. So are the others." He looks to Foley with a smile. "It's good to see you back Sarge."

"Good to be back." Foley's SCAR raises up and takes aim at a Russian Lieutenant, the sights and barrel of his rifle tracking the man's neck. The men Foley was in charge of leading missed their acting commander. Having the Sergeant there to lead them gave them peace of mind. Whenever the Sarge was around they knew in the back of their minds that he would bring them back home; he was just that skilled, that experienced and that stubborn. And Foley knew that his men relied on him to keep from getting their assess shot off; and he intended to follow through on that. He took a breath as his finger twitched to the trigger on instinct. The column already entered the intersection at this point. First vehicle crossed,.. second entering. He gave the order. "Now: hit em."

Foley depresses the trigger of his rifle. A Russian grenadier he was aiming at takes three rounds to the neck and cheek, a red spray of blood gushing from his carotid artery as his body crumpled to the pavement. He was killed instantaneously. Not long after he fires, Foley's men soon follow, rifle and machinegun fire fills the air. Most of the Russian's on foot are taking the heaviest of casualties. Morgan's M240 rakes the enemy patrols left flank, the GPMG's 7.62 rounds almost cutting men in half. McCord's M16A4 was deadly accurate; having set his rifle for semi-automatic firing he aimed for the faces of Russian's and was dropping them quickly. An AT-4 fried by a Ranger from the roof of a building across the street screamed to ground level and impacted the lead UAZ. The lead vehicle was engulfed in a fireball, the men inside killed by the blast, fragmentation and flames; Foley could have sworn he saw the gunners arm flying some twenty feet from the point of detonation. The men in that UAZ were dead ten times over.

The UAZ that was next in line smashed into the burning wreak of the vehicle that sat in front of it. The front end became heavily dented as the driver shunted the twisted hulk out of the way. Another AT4 from another building cut loose and impacted directly at the wheelbase of the Russian vehicle. The UAZ was knocked on its side and the man in the back was spat out of his gunner position, some machine gun fire from the other building was concentrated on him and the crew in the vehicle. The gunner was easily dispatched, although Foley noticed that the men still inside the overturned vehicle were returning the assault with Russian small arms fire. For about fifteen seconds AK fire spat out from the vehicles cab, impacting the side of side of the building and flying past the heads of the Ranger's. The Ranger's on Foley's side of the street kept pouring lead until the gunfire from inside the UAZ was silenced.

The occupants of the third UAZ noticed the destruction of the first two vehicles and began to red line their vehicle out of the line of fire. Another Ranger operating the third AT4 fired the last of the unit's shoulder mounted anti-tank weapons. The rocket screamed after the speeding vehicle, it looked like it would be a solid hit, but the UAZ jukes left at the last second, the rocket screaming past and impacting the ground. The gunner on the Russian heavy machinegun kept his fingers on the trigger the entire time, aiming at roof-tops and spitting rounds as the driver kept pushing the engine of the bullet riddled machine. Foley heard the constant cries on the comms channel of multiple men down as this particular UAZ started giving the American's trouble, thanks to the Russian rounds pouring from the HMG. The driver and gunner of this vehicle were good.

It was around that point over the radio that Dunn felt compelled to say the obvious. "UAZ's 's bugging out man!"

This time James spoke up. "I got em!" Foley saw the Private in a ruined building in the intersection with Dunn and a few riflemen suppressing Russian's that were taking cover by wreaked cars in the roadway or from behind debris. Even from the distance he was, about fifty yards or so, Foley noticed the younger man's hands travel to the front of his M4A1. The Sarge could see the recoil from the under slung M203 punch into the Private's shoulder. The M203 impacted the front bumper of the UAZ, the vehicle bouncing on its undercarriage as it swerved and struggled to maintain control. It barred around a corner and jumped up on the curb, taking out some parking meters, but somehow still driving, though feebly. "DAMN IT! Fucker's still going!" James cursed as he drew an 40mm round from his webbing and loaded it into the underslung M203 launcher on his M4A1.

Quite suddenly the sound of something ramming the building across from Foley's position. To the Sergeant's horror a BTR suddenly exploded through the wall of the building, the weakened structure given way after having it's inside retaining wall gutted by the armored vehicle. The American troops on the roof cried out as the structure gave way beneath their feet.

McCord lamented the loss of the rangers as they fell to their deaths. "Oh god, we just lost fourth squad!"

"Holy shit BTR!" Morgan bleated as the turret of the BTR elevated towards them.

"Move it, let's get our assess off the roof!" Foley barked. He and the squad he was with moved quickly as the BTR's Cannon opened fire upon the rooftop. They made a jump towards the roof of another building that was closest, then hurried down a set of stairs as heavy rounds exploded into the building behind them. "Everyone better haul some ass; we've got a BTR on us. Disengage! I say again disengage!"

The Ranger's complied, just as a T-90 crashed through the building they were just on the roof on, the building now rendered structurally unsound. Russian armor was going to be nightmare for them now; without any Anti-tank weapons they had no means of destroying them. Foley needed to get air support ASAP, failing that the only thing they could do is to disappear into the urban jungle. Foley and his men left their positions and moved though ruined and damaged buildings to lose the Russian vehicles on their tails and what few Russian infantry were still alive. He guided all the rangers into a jewelry store that had been damaged in the wake of looters and urban warfare. Once everyone was gathered his hand quickly reached for his comm and he began to transmit.

"Overlord, this is Hunter-2-1 Actual, be advised we are being hunted by a Russian force consisting of a BTR, a T-90 and about fifteen plus Russian infantry. Requesting some air cover to corvine on our location for an airstrike. How copy, over?"

The response from central command's General Commander, Overlord came promptly. "Hunter-2-1, Overlord, be advised, all air-cover is currently committed to support roles for the 2nd Marines, 1st Armored and countering Russian air squadrons. We cannot provide airstrike packages at this time. Over"

Foley held back a curse and tried to clearly convey the situation to Overlord. "Overlord be advised; we are out of Anti-tank weapons. I say again, we have no anti-tank weapons to neutralize enemy armor. We have already sustained casualties and we are in danger of being bowled over by their armor. Is there anything that you can spare? Helicopters? Predator Drones? Anything?"

There was a brief pause that to Foley and the Ranger's felt like a damned eternity. "Hunter-2-1, theirs a Stryker Colum with Two MGS ICV's amongst them passing through the area. They are within range of your unit and I can divert them temporarily but you'll have to wait a minute fifteen for them to arrive. Can you hold until then?"

Foley grimaced. It wasn't exactly what Foley was hoping for, but he wasn't about to turn down heavy fire power what with Russian armor breathing down the necks of his men. Beggars can't be choosers "Not with our current readiness Overlord." It was then the Sergeant had an idea. "What is their current position? If they can come to us while we go to them my men can bait the enemy into an ambush. Can they do that for us, over?"

Another pause came that seemed to last two seconds longer than normal. "They are currently six blocks north of your position. If you move now both of you will meet at a coffee shop with ideal positions for the MGS to place an ambush. Will you and you're men be able to handle that Hunter-2-1?"

"We'll try, but tell those Stryker's that their drivers better have lead feet if they expect to play the cavalry. It only works if we're still breathing."

"I'll tell em to double time it Hunter-2-1. Stay safe and good luck. Overlord out."

At that Foley turned to his men and gave them their orders. "Alright, we've got some Stryker's in an IFV column not far from us that have enough firepower to take out this armor. We're headed to a coffee shop where they will be ready to ambush the armor chasing us. You boys ready?" The ranger's gave a prompt "Hooah" in response. They knew it was going to be a kick in the teeth, but sometimes when life starts throwing punches at you, you just have to say "fuck it" and throw some jabs back at it. Foley gave nods and motioned to his men, preparing to kick in a door that would lead them outside. "Alright, then we're moving now! Use the buildings for cover. Let's go, move!"

After Foley finished kicking down a door to an ally, the men followed the Sergeant out of the building. No sooner had they done so the T-90 fired a shell into the building, kicking up shrapnel and debris. The Ranger's hauled their asses through the ally and into another building as they heard the sounds of Russian's not far behind them. As they ran Foley could see the amount of destruction and death left in the wake of the Russian's. With building and after building showing the after effects of urban warfare and looking gutted, streets and back alleys filled with debris, to the sights of dead civilians and soldiers laying everywhere, the streets stained red and crimson pools the Ranger's stepped in leaving bloody boot trails behind them. Foley swore the last pair of body's he saw were of a mother and her child. The child she held in her arms was probably as old as his four year old boy. That bit hard at the Sergeant's heart, making him think of Cassie, their son and their yet unborn daughter. The thought of losing them to this conflict was unthinkable.

His thoughts were interrupted when the rifle of one of his men discharges five rounds. Looking back he could see Ramirez at the very back of the unit, about two feet lagging behind, watching as two Russian troops who rounded a corner crumpled to the ground. He didn't even need to wonder why James was trailing from the rear; he was dragging his ass because he wanted to be face to face with any Russian troops that came within firing range of their six. He was getting bold... or perhaps reckless...

Dunn and Morgan went to the young Ranger with Dunn resting his hand on his shoulder. "You okay dude?" Dunn asked.

James nods. "Yeah. I'm good." he replies.

Morgan gestures with his head back to the rest of the men as they were still running. "Come on, we gotta keep up, you don't want us to leave your ass behind, do you?" Thiers's no response from the Private at this, but he reluctantly follows after the two Ranger's to keep up with the others, no doubt whatever rage that lay in his mind was driving him was churning beneath the stoic mask he wore. They could hear the BTR and T-90 following a block behind them as the shouts of the Russian's were drawing closer. After running non-stop they finally reach the entrance of the coffee shop.

Foley motions to a Ranger with a Master-key mounted under his SCAR. "Get this door open." The solider wordlessly approaches the closed door and blows off the lock on the door with the under barrel shotgun, following up by kicking it in. All the Ranger's pour into the building and start taking cover behind tables, booths, the cashiers counter and whatever else would protect them. James was quick to take up a defensive position that covered the front door of the shop and Foley noticed this. The private was out for blood and he could see it clearly. "Alright everyone, stay frosty and don't get careless, understood?" He directed that statement to everyone but it was meant especially for James. The sound of the armor was approaching, in addition to the footsteps of the remaining Russian infantry.

The Russian force was already in an ideal position for an ambush. But the rangers couldn't see any signs of the Stryker column anywhere. McCord cruses nervously. "Where the hell are those Strykers? Shouldn't they be here?"

Laymen responds with slowly growing panic. "Shit, if they're not then we're fucking dead!"

"Quiet! Keep it together." Foley hissed. "They'll be here. Just wait for it." They waited and waited but so far there had been no sign that the Stryker's were laying in wait. The Ranger's were getting nervous at this. Their worries shot up a few points when the BTR and T-90 stopped and started scanning the buildings, the Russian infantry taking a knee beside the armored vehicles. The BTR started spitting rounds into a small grousers store across the street. The T-90 actually fired into the second floor of the coffee shop. All the Ranger's bit back curses and cries as dust and rubble started to fall all around them. Foley even saw one of the Ranger's placing his hand over his mouth to keep from making a sound. There is nothing quite as scary for infantry then to know you have armor hunting for you while you had no way of killing em. In situations like this; you either run as fast as you can, for what little good it did, or you dig yourself a hole and you hide like a rat and hope that the behemoth machine of war decides to move on. Even having fought Neuroi for a short time and seeing the scariest of freaky shit in the other world, the Russian armor still made Foley sweat a bit, their presence on the battlefield leaving no less of an impact.

A Russian officer points towards the coffee shop and a small team of six men calmly approach. They were going to sweep the shop to see if the Ranger's were inside, which they of course were. The Ranger's tensed and Foley could see James's hands tighten on the rifle's grip, his finger moving to the trigger. He can sense the younger man's cold focus. Foley at this point was prepared for him and his men to make a final stand in this coffee shop, but before he could give that order he notices something lurch out from a destroyed wall from one of the ruined buildings across the street. Quite suddenly Foley saw a Stryker barrel into the intersection that lay nearby. Once at a stop the M151 Protector Remote Weapon Station that was mounted in front of the hatch swivelled and fired at the infantry approaching the Ranger's position. The Protector was a system that could have been operated manually by a crew member as a turret platform, or during intense urban engagements operated by a turret control system inside the Stryker. It was a staple system to use in urban battlefields. The Stryker in question lurched forward just as the T-90 tried to aim and fire at it, the shell just impacting behind it as the Stryker sped away. What soon followed was the thunderous sound of a cannon and the T-90 getting engulfed in an explosion and cloud of smoke, courteously from an MGS.

The MGS Stryker's round had impacted the T-90's left track, throwing it completely. The Russian tank tried to move but that only served to throw the track further. The turret started to turn to get a bearing on the MGS, prompting the armored tank hunter to beat a hasty retreat. The Stryker in question narrowly avoids a tank shell fired mere centimeters from it. The BTR's turret swivelled around to the left flank and shot rounds into the adjacent building to the ruined one in hopes of striking the MGS through the wall.

Quite suddenly another MGS and a Bradley IFV lurch into the intersection. The Second MGS Fires at the BTR, causing it to go op in a fireball and an explosion of twisted metal, while the Bradley opened up on the Russian infantry as they scattered. At this point Foley gave the order. "Open fire! Do it!" The Ranger's opened up with all their small arms trained on the infantry, dropping the enemy squad as they fruitlessly tried to run for cover. The turret of the T-90 turned to acquire the American IFV's but the MGS's crew had already loaded another round into the main gun. Another round blasted out from the barrel of the cannon and struck squarely at the turret of the disabled Russian tank. Smoke belched out and ravaged turret listed to the right for a bit until the cannon drooped to paved asphalt. A total, catastrophic kill on the enemy tank.

Foley then heard a voice over the comms channel as the previous MGS Stryker and a few other armored vehicles rode their way into the intersection. "Hey, Hunter-2-1, this is Ramrod, are you boys still with us, over?"

Foley replied. "Roger that Ramrod, thanks for the assist. We're in the coffee shop closest to the intersection. We're coming out." Foley motions to the street and the surviving Ranger's pile out of the damaged building, whooping, hollering and cheering their battle brothers in the IFV's.

The Commander of the first MGS gave a light chuckle. "We copy that. Hey, Honey Badger, what's your status? Is your crew alright?"

The Commander of Hunter-2-1's old acquaintance, Honey Badger, exhaled audibly on comms. "Yeah, that was playing with the deck close to our hearts that time. Now I know what a worm on a hook feels like. Good thing you guys caught the bastards flat-footed for us"

"You did well Honey Badger. Wouldn't be surprised if they wrote a new chapter in the text book on this one. Cut it a bit close on our end as well."

"Yeah, we hear ya Books. Hunter-2-1 are you guys alright form here on out? The rest of our column is meeting up with elements of the First Armored to ram some ass into the Russian defensive lines, push em back a little."

Foley laughed. "Yeah, we're good Honey Badger. We're Oscar Mike, give the Russian Armor a hard time for us, Hooah? You stay safe and give them hell." Foley turned to his men and motions to them down the street. "Alright boy's let's get the lead out of our ass! We're linking up with the 4th Marines so we can hit the artillery battery."

As the American IFV's consisting of Various Stryker variants, three Bradleys and a pair of AAV-7 AMTRAKS roll out to their objective, the Ranger's move to the first Rally point, moving through city streets and damaged buildings. It was hard time for them as they saw the amount of damage done during the invasion. There were also a lot of dead civilians and in the streets and the rooms of gutted buildings. Seeing dead civi's was one of the things most people rarely get used to. Foley never did see any point in doing shit like that. Murdering civilians had no military, tactical, or strategic purpose in his mind. And remembering the chilling scene in passing, killing kids was even worse. Beneath that stoic exterior, the Sergeant's blood boiled and churned.

After several minutes of skirting city streets they finally rally up with the 4th Marine Division at their rally point; a damaged apartment complex, overlooking a park with the artillery battery just in view about two blocks away. Foley greets the acting commander of the 4th Marines , 4th light armored recon; a 1st Sergeant named Tanner. As the Ranger's and Marine's mingle the two Non Commissioned Officers consolidate with each other, with Dunn flanking David on his left side.

"Sergeant, welcome to the fight. How are you and your boys holding up?"

"Glad to be here. Lost a few men while enroute while dealing with Ivan a while back but we got a little help, thankfully."

"Yeah, we lost a few good men as well. Enemy mortar platoon hit us pretty hard." The 1st Sergeant sighed, knowing the same loss Foley was going through. He didn't linger on it long as he got on back to business. "I got sniper teams on the roof of a few buildings one block up, even got a couple of our own mortars embedded in a good position behind us. We'll need a few fire teams to move in, wipe out the artillery crews and capture the battery after the mortars soften them up. You got any good men to spare?"

Foley nods with a smirk on his face. "I got a choice in mind to lead Ranger's on my end." He turns to a gaggle of both his men and Marines and bellows to the group once his eyes find the private, who was at this point conversing with his sister. "RAMIREZ!"

Both James and Carmen turn to the Sergeant. "YO!" they respond in unison.

At this point Foley realized that there were now two Ramirez siblings in his presence. He had to clarify who he was speaking to now. "Ramirez, _**J**_" he amends with a sigh.

Realizing that the Ranger Sergeant wants her brother, Carmen motions over to Foley for James. "That's you bro."

He nods, gives his sister a light slap on the shoulder for emotional support and hustles up to the senior Ranger. "Yeah Sarge?"

Foley give the young Ranger the run down. "Alright Private, we're going to be hitting the Russian artillery battery. I need you to serve as Fire team leader for the ranger's squad. Tell Laymen, Zander, and Morgan, that the four of you will be leading fire teams on this mission and to pick out some volunteers of your choice and flank from the right of the battery after the Mortar squad drops some fire support down on Ivan's head. Think you can handle that?"

"Yeah, no prob."

Dunn chuckles. "On point again huh? You keep pushing and you might be going places. Keep up the hard work and you just might give people orders to clean latrines instead of cleaning them yourself."

James pulls down his balaclava and makes a mild, lopsided grin. "I dunno, I'm pretty good at shoveling shit. Almost as good as you do."

Dunn shakes his head, wearing a toothy grin in amusement. "Don't quit your day job kid, leave the battle of wits to the professionals."

"Too bad you don't get paid for it." With that the Private pulls up his balaclava and heads off to form up his fire team.

Foley turns to Tanner and poses a question to him. "So who have you selected to be Fire team leader for your Marine's?"

The 1st Sergeant's mouth shifts. "It was a tough choice, but I came to the decision that Private Carmen Ramirez will lead one of the fire teams to hit this battery, alongside Corporal Fitz, Corporal Nells, and Sergeant Vaun . The others are battle tested but... well, the Private's a good SAW gunner, tougher then a brick house. I'm just worried she might not quite be leader material. It would be her first time leading a fire team."

Foley smiled. "Well if she's a Ramirez then she'll get shit done. Knowing James he's pretty good leading on a fire team level. He may be a Private, but he's got a lot of heart, a lot of determination, tougher then hell, a fuck-ton of motivation and he's pretty good at improvising, thinking outside the box. On the squad level he takes direction well and is a damn good team player. With his own fire-team he can do anything, so long as he has a weapon in his hands, ammo to shoot with and his team giving him support. You give him an objective and he'll take, hold or destroy it. And if Carmen is even remotely like her brother..." He chuckles quietly, remembering what she did back in the witches world. "...then the Russian's will be in for a real nightmare."

Tanner raised his eyebrows. "Damn, if that's true then it's a good thing I picked her. Shall we unleash these two and their fire-teams on the reds or what?"

Dunn smirks."Those Russian's are fucked, man."

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Private James Ramirez...<strong>

After being given his tasking as a Fire team leader for the Ranger's side, and getting Morgan, Laymen, Zander to form up their fire teams they pushed themselves down the street with the Ranger's on one side of the street and the Marine's on the other. Fire teams consisted of a four man team, with each soldier kitted our to fit particular roles in that fire team. Most of the time such composition's typically consist of Two riflemen, a grenadier and an automatic rifleman, although compositions involving a marksmen, sniper, anti-tank trooper or what have you are not uncommon.

While the Private was on point the sights of urban warfare were starting to blur together in his mind. Brooklyn looked just like Washington, just like Arcadia, just like every other battle scarred part of his country. And with the news of his family it was pretty rough on the young man. After the depression passed all he could feel was anger. There were times like now where it simmered beneath the surface. There were other where it was white hot. Each time his mind went back to his family...

His mom and dad; killed when they were rushing down of the stairs of their home when a Russian team breached the front door. It was said that there was evidence that his dads old pistol from his time in police service had been fired, but he only got two rounds off. Two rounds, two dead Russian's. Unfortunately, unlike civilians with small families, soldiers had squads. Four other Russians with AK's and a PKM cut them both down easily. His older brother Marco and his SAWT unit gave it their all trying to keep the peace, they held on and bought a lot of people time to evacuate but they were eventually outmanned and outgunned by Russian military forces. Not to mention that cops usually employed siege warfare as a tactic. Most modern army's used mobility to their advantage to out maneuver enemy forces, and they only held when their positions were well fortified and defensible. Cops always held their ground, even when doing so would prove to be much more dangerous than hauling ass. He heard that Marco died on his feet, last one alive at a police checkpoint and got his rounds off. His other brothers were at a party with some friends, had the music so loud that no one heard the Russian MIG's making their bombing run.

His youngest sister, Julieta...

Carmen was the one who found her. He remembered the painful story she related to him...

* * *

><p><em>As she was on patrol a little over a month ago, Carmen was with her squad, moving through an apartment block that she recognized. She asked permission to sweep and clear one of the wings of the complex with a few of the other Marines and she was cleared for it. She looked through the hall and let the other Marines clear the rooms on the way to her sisters apartment suit. Up until that point she had seen a lot of messy stuff in the other rooms. When she came to her sisters door she saw it was closed.<em>

_A part of her held out hope at that: maybe she was hiding somewhere inside... but it was gone when she burst through the door and into the room. Julieta was a beautiful girl, a kind girl. Good head on her shoulders, a really bright kid. She shared the apartment with three other girls, a few friends who were her roommates. She wanted to be independent, provide for herself and not burden the family; she was pretty mature for a seventeen year old. She had brown eyes that shone like diamonds and had bewitching dark hair that was down to her shoulder blades. She was the little sister that everyone was left in awe of, wanted to try and help people, spending her time working at the soup kitchen. You couldn't find another kid like her._

_The Marine of the Ramirez family could see her sister, laying on her back, stripped of all her clothes. As she staggered forward she could see that Julieta's body was covered in black and purple bruises on her face, arms and torso. There was a pool of blood that had coagulated around her head, a hole made by a small calibre round over her left eyebrow, gunshot residue on her face. But then Carmen saw the strange white-yellow, encrusted substance that coated her sister's body and the floor surrounding her. As if on auto pilot she checked her sisters corpse and found clear evidence that she had been raped. She didn't know how long she sat their looking at her sisters long cold form, but it felt like an eternity. After she finally snapped out of it she found the other girls in the apartment, having suffered the same fate._

_After numbly trying to cover her sisters battered, bruised and violated form with a blanket she just stood in the room for a while until her squad coaxed her out to move on. They had to continue patrol, even though a few empathized with her pain. She finally complied, trying to move forward. But this would be the deepest pain she would ever feel..._

* * *

><p>And when James heard of the news it hit him just as hard. He felt he should have been there for them and this was especially the case with Julieta... but fate clearly had other plans. But he can't think about that right now: he can do that back in his bunk. Now the eight fire teams were close to their objective. James came up to the side of a building a peered around the corner, giving a gesture to hold position and hug the wall. The Marines stacked up behind the Rangers.<p>

Vaun approaches the private with a questioning look. "Watchya see?"

"I see the battery... 30 meters ahead of us. And they have UAZ's and Heavy MG emplacements." he whispers. "This is going to get messy."

"How messy?"

"Pretty damn messy." He does notice one key element in their favour. "A lot of wreaked cars on this street though. Must have been a bottle neck here or something."

"Use the wreaked cars for cover eh? Ballsy. I like it." Vaun motions to his fire team. "Come on you guys. The four of us will get nice and close to Ivan in a very personal way. Give these Reds a good time once the kick off starts. Keep quiet. Keep low. The rest of you guys find a good firing position and get comfy." With that Vaun moved ahead with his team members following him, making sure to stay out of sight of the Russian artillery crews and MG teams.

The other Fire teams split up to find good firing positions, surrounding the battery from all sides. James and his team took up a position inside a building with part of the wall collapsed into the street. His sister's fire team was one building over. Once in their respective positions Vaun got on the radio. "Hunter-2-1, this is Fire Team Alpha, be advised we are in position. How long until the mortars fire?"

Foley replies with reassurance. "Sit tight, in coming mortars in fifteen seconds and counting." After a pause he adds. "Give em hell."

"Roger that."

Fitz chuckles. "Here we go boys and girls. Time for the opening ceremony..."

Five seconds later after the Marine's joking statement, mortars rain down on the Russian artillery battery. Explosions ring out as men get caught in the small barrage. Legs and arms are getting blown off and men being knocked off their feet, being felled by shrapnel or the concussion. As this happens the Ranger and Marine fire teams open up with their small arms to try and route the artillery crews. Russian small arms respond to the attack with volleys of their own. James noticed Nell's and his fire team charging out of cover from somewhere on the left flank, moving along across the street and trying to advance on the Russian Battery.

"Alright guys! Move it up, lets kick these bastards in the fucking ass!" the corporal urged his three squad mates forward with him taking front and center.

As he was picking off some infantry, James saw a Russian heavy machinegun swing in the direction of Nell's fire team. Carmen must have also saw this insane act because her voice shouted over the comm. "Nell's you idiot, get the fuck down!" The warning came too late; as the four man team was bounding between cars the Russian HMG opened up in a long sustained burst. Wells and his men were quickly shredded and mowed down by the hail of machinegun fire that was directed at them, Wells himself was cut completely in two and his chest cavity exploded in a bloody, gory mess. Carmen growled in frustration. "Fucking dumbass!"

Morgan groans over the comm channel. "This ain't Commando; action movie tactics like that are a good way to get killed, fast."

James just shook his head and groaned in frustration. Although it wasn't really all that tasteful to speak ill of the dead, especially when that someone just bought it in front of you in the past five seconds; but guys like Nell's who were too damn cocky and reckless and green enough to be grass stains on your jeans that some would be inclined to call them "boots". Fresh recruits just out of boot camp that were inexperienced Guy's like that gave Reservists a bad name with stupid stunts; what with the incidents involving too much blue-on-blue contact, being less disciplined then the regulars and a small handful using Hollywood movie tactics . It's because of this that the 4th Marines are given the derogatory term of "The 4th Marine Dimension", a term used by regular Marines to denote displeasure with the difference in culture and operating procedures within the 4th Marine division as opposed to active duty units. Ironically James found he was one to talk; he was a reserve Ranger that signed on to become a regular, and he acknowledged this.

James got on the Radio. "Mortar Platoon, Hunter-2-1, Fire Team 2, be advised we have a few Russian Heavy MG's behind sandbags protecting the artillery batteries parameter, and we have lost a fire team to one of them." He gestures with one hand to the rifleman behind him, went by Bossley or something. The man digs into his pocket and hands James a map. Taking the map while maintaining line of sight downrange his eyes quickly dart to the map, finding the coordinates he needs. "Requesting mortar strikes at Grids: Papa-325 and at Papa-345. I say again, requesting mortar strikes at Grids: Papa-325 and at Papa-345. Over."

The mortar teams Sergeant responds. "Roger that Fire Team 2. Firing now."

In the time it took for James to pocket the map the secondary mortar barrage comes down, the Heavy Machinegun teams being engulfed in the explosions, in addition to a UAZ that was driving a bit too close to one of the MG nests. James noticed Vaun bounding up with his men on the left flank. They were advancing patently, taking time to inch their way forward, bit by bit.

"You guys give us cover. We're going to try and Flank." Vaun requested tersely.

Morgan responds. "Roger that, I'm hitting em with the 240 Bravo. Let's dump some rounds on em guys!"

James gets on the comm next, he has a plan in mind. "Hey, Carmen. Give my team some cover fire, we're going to punch a hole in the middle of them."

"You got it, one side order of hot lead, coming up." James can hear the sound of Carmen's SAW next door in addition to the rates of fire for her team increasing.

He turned to the men in his fire team, all privates, like him, and looked at them over his ballistic sunglasses. "You guys ready?" he asked. The three men nod silently, they didn't even need to say a word. James turned back downrange and sighted his targets. "Okay, let's go." He surges forward with his fire team following in a staggered line behind him. He spots some Russian's moving in the open to get to one of the Machine gun nests. His ACOG falls on one and he puts three rounds into him, then shifts to the second and does the same while his fire team was taking down other Russian infantry. Still moving forward another pair of Russians pop up from behind an artillery gun they were using as cover. James manages to take aim and fire at their heads while on the run. Amazingly, the rounds he fired managed to strike the two men squarely in the face, a pink mist appearing when the high velocity 5.56mm rounds impact their human targets. Once in the street he and his fire team take cover behind a pair of cars when the building they were just in explodes, electing curses from his fire team.

Laymen bleats over the radio. "Jesus Christ! One of the artillery crews is using direct fire with their artillery on us!"

Carmen yells out on the radio channel. "Yeah, I noticed! If you're in a building then get the hell out if it!" The artillery gun that was using direct fire on the American fire teams shifted by a few meters, towards Carmen's position. "Holy SHIT! INCOMMING! MOVE!" She orders her team out of the building. Four seconds later a thunderous explosion rang out. The front of the building that James's sister was in fell into the street as well as debris flying everywhere.

James's head snapped to the blasted building in horror. Carmen was in that building! He didn't just loose the last of his family, did he?! "CARMEN!" He shouted over the radio, desperate to hear his sisters voice. There was no fucking way that he just lost her like that. "CARMEN, RESPOND! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!"

There was a coughing, followed by a dazed response. "F-fuuuuuck...that was close..." she groaned.

James breathed a heavy sigh of relief. His sister was still alive. "Are you guys hurt?" he asks, trying to get an appraisal of Carmen's condition and that of her team.

"Naw, naw we're still in one peace. My ears are ringing though." she responds flatly.

James sighs. "Thought I lost ya their Sis." The last living member of his family is thankfully still drawing breath. And better yet, she's still combat effective.

Carmen catches her breath and scoffs. "It'll take a lot more than that to kill me. If some bastard wants to take my life I'm going to make them work for it. No way in hell I'll ever go out like that. Kline, Waters, Keller, let's get the lead out. No way we're staying in this death trap now: the structural integrity is fucken shot."

James saw that the other fire teams were moving up, exiting the buildings. If they tried to hold indoors then the artillery crew firing directly at them would take them out by collapsing the building on top of them. Zander sent a message over the radio after firing his M240 on the run and getting to cover with his team. "We need the mortars to shift by ten degrees east!" Not long after that five mortar shells fall and impact the battery, killing more Russians and another UAZ. By now the number of Russian's now combat effective are easier to manage. Save perhaps with one particular problem...

The artillery gun still being manned fires again, this time aimed into the street. three wreaked cars are sent flying, the explosion happening several meters away from James and his fire team. His fire team bleats explicative's as shrapnel and twisted metal fly. James had had enough. He sends a message over on the radio. "All fire teams, give my guys and I some cover; we're taking that gun!" He spots a suspicious looking tent some fifteen meters behind the artillery guns and sent a message to the American Mortar team. "Mortar team be advised, we need three more rounds at Grid Oscar-450, after you fire those rounds stand by for further tasking. Soften them up for us a bit."

There was a prompt response. "Roger that. Shots inbound."

Vaun laughs manically. "You got balls private. You heard the man! Give these reds some more lead! Let's see em bleed a little!"

At this the American small arms began to dump more rounds downrange. The three mortar rounds came down on the battery on just where James wanted them to; right on top of the tent. The shower of sparks and a secondary explosion from a power generator indicated that it may have been a communications tent. Russian troops started to take cover, those who didn't got tagged by the massive wall of suppressive fire. The crew of the artillery gun either jumped behind sandbags or took cover behind the artillery piece itself. This was his window; as he leapt over the hood of the wrecked car he shouted to his team mates. "Follow me! Stay on my ass!" The Russian artillery gun fires again, the shell passing some ten meters past the Private's head and into some wreaked cars somewhere behind him. He was so high on adrenaline that this barley registered to him.

The fire team followed close behind James. The rifleman with his M16A4 acquiring a Russian RPG operator in his ACOG, three single shot rounds going straight into the targets face. The Grenadier notice's another UAZ driving across from their right flank and switched from his red dot sight to his SCAR-H's under slung grenade launcher. A satisfying "ploonk" from his blooper resulted in a perfect hit on the vehicles engine block. The UAZ swerved wildly and careened into a fire hydrant, electing a geyser gushing up from the concrete jungle. The auto-riflemen kept firing his M249 PIP while on the move, providing mobile suppressive fire for the fire team, mowing down at least seven enemy riflemen that gotten careless.

They kept pushing forward, kept advancing, bounding to and from cover as they went. James then saw his sister and her three team members consisting of two WM's and a Male marine coming from their right flank. One of Carmen's girls tosses a grenade into a Russian defensive position. The explosion takes out about four Russians who had bunked down, the blast shredding the men. It wasn't long until the other fire teams made their advance upon the battery. At this the remaining Russian units have had enough; the remaining troops begin to fall back, surrendering the Russian artillery guns to the American fire teams.

Once beside the artillery gun he noticed a Russian trying to heft a newer model AK-47 in his direction, but clearly failing thanks to a shot up arm. James emptied what was left of his magazine into him. Once he slapped in a fresh mag he started to sweep the area for stragglers. By the time the other fire teams caught up James gave the all clear. At this point what had just happened in the past seven minutes and a half finally caught up to him. His knees became weak, and he was shaking all over once he started to come down from his adrenalin high. Weakly he rested up against an overturned UAZ sitting in the middle of the park, trying to catch his breath.

Vaun walked up to the Private. "Hey Private, are you doing alright?" he asked once everyone began to wind down.

"Yeah." came a quick response.

"You sure?"

"I'm fine."

Vaun smiled at him. "You are a certified badass mother fucker Private. If I didn't know any better I'd almost mistake you for a Marine." He gave James a pat on the shoulder. "You take five kid. You did damn good. Just remember to save some for the rest of us."

James scoffed but said nothing. He's too tired to make any quick witted jokes right now. As he was thinking about it the fact an artillery shell came that close to his head scared him shitless. That was almost scary as almost getting his head lasered off by a Neuroi. As Vaun links back up with his team Morgen, Laymen, Zander, Carmen and their teams as well as James's own fire team gather round.

One of Carmen's team, a guy named Kline, looks to James. "Your Carmen's brother?" he asks. James nods silently in response. At which, the Marine extends his hand in greeting. "Nice to finally meet you. Carmen's told us a lot about you."

"Yeah? Probably something unflattering no doubt." he replies, half jokingly. Carmen grins smugly and shakes her head at James's unique brand of self deprecating of humor.

Kline laughs. "Well she did say you were a stubborn, belt fed son-of-a-bitch. And from seeing that little number you pulled off I'm inclined to agree with her."

James blinked in mock surprise. "An actual complement? From Carmen? And she gave it willingly? That's as rare as a solar eclipse."

Carmen scoffs. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a mean lady; cold as ice and tough as nails." she quips in a flat, joking tone. James smiled. There was nothing quite like some gentle ribbing between siblings.

Morgan checks over his M240, pulling back on the charging handle and pushing it back. "Damn, my 240 is jamming like it's going out of style. That's five jams in one hour."

Laymen looks questioningly at Morgan's weapon. "Will you be able to get it squared away?" he asked.

Moran shrugs as he opens the feed cover. "I'm trying, haven't figured out anything yet."

Carmen casually digs into her MOLLE rig and retrieves a small container. "Clean your weapon out, then lube her up like you would for a pretty women..." she tosses Morgan the small container of weapon lubricant, grinning smugly. "Or your cock, depending on how your luck at the bar turns out."

Morgan catches the jar of lubricant with eyes wide and eyebrows raised. He stares at Carmen for a minute then turns to go off someplace to maintain his weapon, silently mouthing "what" as he takes his leave. The others chuckle heartily at Carmen's dirty joke. After a while the others decide to hold down the parameter, in addition to sending a message over the radio on the status of the fire teams and the artillery battery. After reporting their status, they are given orders to hold their position and, if they can, try and turn the Russian artillery on the enemy. The Ranger's and Marines take up defensive positions and bunker down. There was a good chance that Ivan would be back to take back what was theirs. But of course, the American forces won't let them just take those guns back.

By this time James bunkered down with in a makeshift fox hole packed with sand bags that both he Laymen, Zander and Carmen's fire teams were bedded down in. James was resting his back up against the dirt and Carmen staring down the sights of her SAW. With this breather he can finally talk to his sister earnestly instead of trading quick-witted quips.

"So, how's your team doing?"

"Doing good." she responds.

"Good."

"And your guys?"

"Same."

"Mmm." She exhales evenly. So far it was small talk, and not the very interesting sort at that. When she heard word a while back of how members of Hunter-2-1 have been MIA she worried about wither James was alright or not. She often asked her superiors if there was any news on his status but she never got any word about anything. So she was floored when that strange... anomaly thing... transported her to some freaky world where she finds James just rolling with the crazy. "I was meaning to ask... where were you after that whole MIA thing you and your buddies were in?" she asks curiously.

James groaned. "You wouldn't believe me if I told ya." His eyes glance over at one of the Ranger's from his fire team , who was giving him a questioning look. "Neither would you for that matter."

Carmen looked down at her brother. "Hey, I wound up wherever you wound up, so give me details. I wasn't able to hear anything after giving you the news on everything here. Got deployed with my unit before you could tell me."

James sighed. "It's a whole other world. Literally. I'm talking alternate reality shit. Second world war; except people are fighting laser shooting, machine aliens and they need teenage magical girls with heavy weaponry, as well as propellers and tank treads on their legs." After a pause he then adds one last detail as an afterthought. "Oh... and they don't wear pants."

The one man from James's fire team, called Sung, looks at the Private questioningly. "Alternate reality?"

Carmen meanwhile blinks. "No pants? Just how old are these kids?"

James thinks carefully, trying to remember the ages of the witches. "Well the oldest is around 20 and the youngest is around 13."

Carmen has a sudden, dark look. "So what are they using those kids for exactly?" she demands.

"You know the aliens I mentioned? Conventional weapons do little if anything against them. They need witches to fight and protect humanity, so it's a bum-rap really. The things they wear on their legs help out with fighting as well."

Carmen blinks. "You mean they are actual soldiers?" she sounded genuinely surprised by this.

James looks over to his sister questioningly. "Yeah, surprisingly enough. Why?" Carmen, has a uncomfortable look on her face and stays silent. James realizes what she is insinuating. "Ah, no, no. Many of the grunts would throw a shit fit if anyone tried to do anything bad like that to the girls. They got pretty damn pissed when they thought we were a threat to them. The witches are their... I guess angel's would be one way to put it. They're celebrities, war heroes and... I'm sure most would be seen as sisters and daughters to a lot of guys back in that world."

Carmen blinked. "Really? So that's really the case? After what I heard about that one bastard I was afraid that the girls would be taken advantage of and manipulated somehow."

"You're talking about that asshole, Krupke?" Carmen nods. James explains this part of the witches world. "Well, that fucker and a few others like him are just a bunch of old dinosaurs in the minority; they get their pants in a twist because they have to play second banana to a bunch of though, strong, independent young woman who can kick ass and take names." He then grins toothily. "Girls kind of like you in fact."

Carmen smiles reluctantly, flattered by her brothers words. But there was one thing she was a little worried about. "But they're not being conscripted or pressed into service?" she asked, sounding slightly suspicious.

James shakes his head. "From what the girls told me they enlisted under their own wishes as regular and reserve personnel or as civilian volunteers. And for the most part, they are treated pretty damn well; decrepit monkey skeletons in their armchairs and who think women belong in the kitchen notwithstanding. Which might I add; is bullshit."

"I see. Child soldiers though... that's still pretty messed up."

The others in the fox hole up until this point were only half hearing the conversation, but when it got to the girls themselves they were all ears. And most of them grumbled in agreement with Carmen's thoughts on the matter. Guys using kids as tools of war were often seen as the bad guys, so this didn't sit well with the grunts. And often times it was a nightmare to actually fight children who were combatants. That was something no solider wants to ever do during their tours of duty.

James sighed. "Yeah, but at the least they have their magic to defend and attack with. Other wise... well... I'd rather not think about it."

Carmen guessed she'd have to accept this bit of information. So she continues. "And the aliens? What's their deal exactly?"

James shrugs. "Not sure. Come to think of it the people in the witches world aren't sure either." he admits. That was something that even he found unnerving: trying to fight something you knew nothing about.

Bossley, having overheard the conversation, seemed skeptical. "Wait so... this really happened? You seriously went to another reality or something?" James nods, which prompts a new line of questioning. "So what sort of ships and tech did these aliens have? Flying saucers and phaser technology or something?"

"You know how we have aircraft and armor?" James asks him patiently.

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with anything?"

"A lot actually: the aliens ARE the aircraft and armor."

"What?" Bossley is left dumbfounded at this news. That was actually pretty new for an alien species. Everyone else seemed similarly surprised.

Sung looks questioningly at James. "Wait so if these aliens are the aircraft and armor, if we're going to go on a limb and go along with this whole story, then how the hell did they get to that realities Earth then? I mean, what the hell does their mother ships look like if they could BE mother ships?"

James shrugs. "As near as me, Dunn and Sarge were able to figure it was the hives that the witches told us about that sound like mother ships. Think of these big ass funnel clouds that shoot out aliens that look like aircraft and walkers."

Sung looked unconvinced. "Now you're just pulling our legs man."

Carmen shook her head in disagreement. "No, he's right; I saw one of them up close. Not these Hive things but the aliens. Both the alien and one of these witches... well, two of the witches. Took me by surprise." She looks back over to James, with a worried look. "You guys didn't have to fight any of them aliens, did you?"

James had a flat look on his face at that. "Damn right I did. Let me tell ya, that's the one thing about that world I WONT miss. Take my word for it, if you ever come across these alien things, Neuroi, you better hope you're carrying a big ass gun because everything else may as well be a pea shooter." He got up and got into a ready position with his M4A1, aiming his weapon at an intersection. "Now that's a war that no one will be looking pretty in." But then he then thought about the witches, and how despite the craziness, it still wasn't too bad to have worked alongside the young warriors of magical might. "But the girls, they were an alright bunch. Every one of em. Gotta respect the fact these kids could put all of us to shame when the chips were down. If they wanted to they can take out an entire battalion singlehandedly, American or Russian. But... they'd rather fight aliens then people. " He smirked. "Good kids, couldn't ask for a better bunch."

Carmen looked at her brother a moment, watching him with great intensity. "James?" she said at last.

"Hm?" He turned to look at his sister. He was met with her helmeted head lightly head butting his own helmet; something soldiers called "Turtle-Fucking".

"I'm glad you're okay... " Her eyes locked with James's own eyes. "If you ever get killed I'll kick your fucking ass." she warned.

James blinked, then chuckled lightly. This was his sisters way of showing her affection and concern, Marine Corp style all the way. "Same goes to you, you copy?" he told her.

She smiled mildly. "Yeah, I copy."

Everyone had a chance to wind down for another five minutes while being on the lookout for enemy activity. Everyone had restocked ammo, prepared claymores and even stockpiled enemy weapons as battlefield acquisitions. After that was taken care of a few rangers kept C4 by the artillery guns in case they ever got overwhelmed in an attack and needed to deny the enemy the battery. At this point one of the Marines of the 4th Battalion spoke up, one of the snipers. "Hey, guys. I think I just glassed something."

Everyone snapped their attention downrange. Carmen got herself sighted on the M249 and scanned the city streets. She wasn't able to spot anything. "What and where, dog face?" she asked.

"Tall ruined building, right next to the pizza shop with the downed power line. You got eyes on?"

Carmen shakes her head. "Negative, I've got nothing. How about you James?"

James glasses the pizza shop down range and scans the area. "Hang on..." He scans slowly back and forth for a miniute, then notices movement in a building window to the right of the Pizza shop. "I think I see movement; building adjacent the pizza shop, far left window, second floor." Right next to him, Bossley glasses the building with the ACOG of his M16A4, then slowly raises to get a better look, then snaps to the right a little. James looks at the Ranger questioningly. "The hell are you doing?"

"I saw movement by that wreaked ambulance over by the corner store. It might have been some Russian infantry."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm telling you I saw-" A sudden snap rings out and something impacts Bossley's helmet. His M16 discharges a three round burst as he is knocked off his feet, bleating in surprise. James flinched as this happened, and a few men cursed out loud. Bossley is rolling around on the ground in a panic. "I'm hit! I'm hit! I've been fucking shot!"

James scan's downrange, trying to find the origin of the round. "We got sniper fire! Where's he at!? Someone get a bead on this bastard!"

One of Carmen's girls, Waters, checks up on Bossley. "Hold on let me see ya for a sec." Bossley manages to keep still long enough for her to check him. "You're okay, it just caught you in the kevlar. Your still in this."

Bossley looked pale. "Fuck that was close! Two inches lower and I'd have a hole in my head."

Vaun's voice belts out from behind James and the troops he was sharing the foxhole with. "What the hell's happening back their?! Do we have contact?"

Quite suddenly about four T-90's burst through a few of the buildings, followed by five BTR's and as would James put it; a fuck ton of infantry. Carmen's eyes widened as she tightened her grip and pressed the stock of her M249 into her shoulder. "That would be a fucking confirmed on contact! We've got Russian Armor and Infantry inbound!" Then the sound of jets were slowly approaching. "TAKE COVER! AIR STRIKE!"

The Russian aircraft passed over head, the jets screaming as they dropped their payloads. Explosions went off all around the American fire teams as the bombs impacted the ground. James dug himself deep into his hole and prayed that the bombs that were dropped didn't wind up falling on his head. After the Russian top cover passed overhead without hitting a damned thing, thankfully, and bugged out the Ranger's and Marine's dusted themselves off, getting ready for the pounding that was coming. American small arms opened up in force.

Laymen gets on the radio and requests the mortars to start firing again, giving the proper grid firing co-ordinates and firing orders. A few of the claymores that were placed down range go off, taking out a few squads. Once the mortars came down it wreaked havoc on the enemy infantry. The Russian armor meanwhile was still moving up. Unless they found a way to take it out it'll be curtains for the fire teams.

James suddenly had an idea. "Hey, does anybody know how to use artillery?"

Laymen looked over to James with a sudden excited look. "Hell yeah, I've had some experience with em. Spent a year attached to an artillery company. I can make this work." He points to his fire team. "You guys follow me, this will take a little improve but were going to use these things to blast us some Russian armor!" Like a shot, Laymens team rushes to the nearest artillery gun and prep it for firing, tough it takes Laymen a minute to quickly give this team a crash course in using the dammed thing. After working out the basics, Laymen gets his team working on the artillery piece. After loading in a shell the barrel levels out and swings fully loaded to bear on a T-90 leading the charge of the Armor. Laymen raises his hand, and then brings it down, giving the command for the gun to be fired. "FIRE!"

It's an encouraging thing what once the artillery piece fires that the lead tank charging them explodes brilliantly. James keeps firing his rifle, occasionally dropping targets, his accuracy getting better the closer the enemy gets. No doubt it's going to be a meat grinder today. Quite suddenly a voice belonging to one of the tanks of the first armored speaks over the radio, in a addition to an increase in radio traffic, from armored and air units.

"All unit's this is Lowballer of the 1st Armored. Russian forces are making a push with armor, anti-tank teams and moderate air cover. The IFV column we're escorting is under heavy fire, requesting air cover from any nearby air units."

"Lowballer Roger that, Vengeance-6-6 and Wrath-1-7. are inbound to your location. Just sit tight until we get there."

Another transmission over the radio, this time between and Blackhawk and a Sea-Knight. "Kilo-6-1, this is Gunslingger-1, interrogative, we are within flying distance to the colum, shall we give them a hand?"

The Sea-Knight pilot responds. "Roger that, we'll give these guys an assist."

James kept up the fire as the comms channel became flooded with voices of military personal trying to get support from one another. What's worse is that, now in front of him, even with two more tanks destroyed by the captured artillery gun, the Russian's are getting close to the American fire teams. After taking out another eight men he runs out of ammo and reloads another mag. _Oh yeah, we're in the suck now... those seals and D-boys better get that sub under control._ He thought to himself. Even with the Russian's front line pushed back to the river the American armor would be needed to plug holes up in the streets to keep the Russians from moving their lines forward again. With Ivan growing desperate they are hitting them with everything they've got.

Two minutes of fighting later, Vaun then shouts a grim warning over the comms. "Better get you're bayonets ready boys and girls; we're going to see us some hand to hand combat any second now!"

James grimaced. _Terrific._

* * *

><p><strong>Sgt. Derek "Frost" Westbrook...<strong>

**Delta Force...**

**New York Harbor...**

The mission had been tense but so far well executed; Team Metal entered the harbor through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel. Then they linked up with the Seal team. Used the SVD's to skirt the mine field, lay in wait for the missile sub. Planted a mine on the sub to disable it and get it to surface. Then board the sub, take control of it and finish up by turning the missiles on the Russian fleet. So far everything's been going to plan. Metal team had to fight it's way to the sub, despite the fact that it's crew had made attempts first to repair the sub, then once Metal Team was discovered on board to scuttle the vessel, not that they'd give the crew a chance to do either.

After fighting their way through the sub, Sandman and Frost are finally outside the door to the bridge. After spending this long with Metal Team, Frost was feeling confident that he was where he was needed. This was going to be the turning point of the battle for New York and his team would be a key element for this victory to be. He always strived to test and push his limits. He was the young blooded prodigy of the team, a man with a unique drive and a level of determination, talent and calm rational to prove himself worthy of being a Delta operator. He was also a bit of a sharp minded individual; back in high school he scored higher than most of his peers, and his drive to push himself was apparent in his extracurricular activities. So people saw him as smarter and more motivated than most.

He was also a bit of a nice guy as well, very humble; respected seeing someone pushing their limits like he did. Unlike most people who felt threatened by others with brains or otherwise trying to apply themselves, seeing them as rivals, Frost saw kindred spirits seeking to shatter their limits, like he was. His only major flaw? Amongst other things he was pretty bad at cooking. He was so bad at it that not even his dog would dare eat the food he made. You know you're a shitty cook when your dog thinks what you've made is dangerous to eat. That was something that he felt was severely lacking in his skill sets, and it drove him up the wall.

The only other thing that was a fault of his was he was very critical of himself. Whenever he failed at something, he would berate himself over it. He was so hard on himself for a few failures in his life that friends said he was his own worst enemy. He held himself to such impossibly high standards and believed anything worth doing was worth doing well. Failure was not tolerated. If he ever did something he would give his 110% at it. Now was no different.

Sandman looked to Frost and motioned to the heavy door that stood between them and the bridge. "OK. Put a kicker charge on the door." he ordered.

The young Delta operator helps Sandman place the kicker charge. Once it's placed both men roll back out the of door frame. Sandman detonates the charge without ceremony and Frost rolls into the now open doorway, the Russian sub crew inside stunned by the blast that blew the door in. They breach and clear the bridge; Frost charging forward with his MP5 in hand.

First man he spots is a man charging the door with a knife in hand. Without an iota of hesitation at this direct, immediate threat Frost fires a three round burst to his unprotected chest. The man's feet fly out from under him and he comes crashing down on the floor. He sees a man in mid draw of his pistol and shift's his MP5's barrel to the target. A three round burst from Frost's weapon puts him down. Behind that target is another trying to bring up his PP-90M1 sub-machinegun. Another three round burst smacks directly into the man's face, his body crumpling to the cold metal floor. Sandman follows suite, sticking two rounds each into the heads of the sub captain, and two other crew members on the control console.

Sandman scans the room until he feels satisfied. "Area Clear." He moves over to the body of the sub's Captain, quickly finding a pair of keys attached to a beaded chain, much like the chain to a set of dog tags. The older Delta operator grabs the pair of keys and pulls them off the dead man's neck, the beaded chain breaking easily at the firm yank. "Alright, I got the launch keys." As he moves to the launch controls he sends a message over the comms to get authorization to launch. "Overlord, this is Metal 0-1. I send checkpoint Neptune, over."

"Roger, 0-1, copy Neptune." Overlord responds.

Once at the controls he goes over the console, performing diagnostics. Doing about a hundred things at once in his head. "I have the missile key and I'm accessing the launch codes now." All he needed now was the required grid coordinates.

Frost looked over to the man he considered to be one of his two mentors, impressed with Sandman's abilities in multi-tasking. Hopefully that's a skill the younger Delta operator can refine with enough time and experience. Aside from Sandman, the only other person he had held a deep degree of respect towards was Captain Price. Current events didn't change that. He and the rest of Metal Team knew Price; he was no traitor. But unfortunately they had little to no say on an official capacity. All they could hope for is an opportunity to arise to help clear their friends names.

"Grid coordinates follow: Tango Whiske 8." Overlord belted out the required coordinates.

**"**Coordinates confirmed! Firing on Russian fleet in 30 seconds!" After inputting the coordinates for the missile strike that Overlord had given them Sandman turned to Frost. "Frost, get on the console!"

Without a word Frost approached the opposite side of the launch console. Looking to the Master Sergeant, he sees one of the keys getting tossed towards him. He catches the key on reflex and inserts it into the launch control console. He waits for the count down from his Team Leader.

Sandman began the countdown. "3, 2, 1, Turn!" In perfect unison both men turn the keys. The covers to the launch buttons open and get pressed by both Delta Operators. "Overlord, missiles armed and launching!"

"Roger. SEAL team is in position for exfil."

With their objective carried out that left them with one last thing to do. Sandman motioned to a ladder leading to the deck. It was time to jump ship. "Go! Go!" Frost complied with the speed of a rabbit. Not waiting any time getting to the ladder he scaled the rungs of the leaky, crippled sub. Once on deck and being met with the crisp air a pair of F-15's fly by overhead, likely to intercept enemy air assets. Once Sandman is on deck both men approach the side of the sub, seeing that both Truck and Grinch had gotten a pair of Zodiacs ready. The Seal team had already secured their own transports, which left the Delta team with their zodiacs.

The Master Sergeant gives his team the signal that it's time to clear out, just as the missile silo doors on the sub are starting to open for launch. "Grinch, Truck, let's roll!"

Grinch gets the motor of the Zodiac he and Truck were riding in with little objection. "Amen to that!" he replies. the sooner they get out of dodge, the better.

Sliding down the side of the submarine, Frost and Sandman get aboard the empty Zodiac. Once on board Frost starts the motor as the his Team Lead gives him the order for them to leave. "Frost, punch it!" It was now time to reach their exfil point. Pulling away from the submarine Frost drives the small water craft across the ever changing aquatic surface, following the lead zodiac to the best of his abilities. with the sub's silo door now fully opened, the missiles launch, their sights set squarely upon the Russian fleet.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking...<strong>

**Private James Ramirez...**

Russian infantry was getting too close for comfort. Despite their best efforts, it looks as though they are going to be over run. The enemy is surrounding them in a pincer move. James kept firing his rifle, each shot was now a solid kill for him. He and his sister were now back to back trying to route the enemy charging them and their teams. Team 7 had just gotten wiped out completely, and another five guys were wounded and bleeding but still fighting. The mortar teams had just dumped the last of their rounds and the declaration "rounds complete" may as well have been another way of saying "your fucked." All the team's had bunkered down in whatever cover was left standing, everyone screaming and shouting and bellowing orders. It seemed like the last dance for them...

James's magazine ran dry again. He emptied it and started to reload. While drawing the mag from his chest rig he saw a man with a modernized, blackened AK and a bayonet mounted on the barrel lug, charging at him while in mid reload. James's adrenaline, now back and running, hit a new peak as he took the magazine in his hand and slapped it into the magazine receiver. He slapped the side of the rifle and pulled back on the charging handle as the charging Russian man was drawing closer to him.

Just as he was about to aim at the enemy rifleman a sudden bright light that he recognized appeared and shone brightly and blindingly. Squinting his eyes he could see the man charging him stumble and become blinded, just as the rifle's bayonet was pointed at him. Carmen might have shouted something but he couldn't hear what she was saying. As the bayoneted AK was close enough to be within impaling distance he deflected the AK with the barrel of his M4A1. He performed a push kick and knocked the man on his ass. Before he could level his weapon he saw two things that gave him pause: The first was a T-90 rolling up not even fifteen meters from where he stood, the large bore cannon pointed in his general direction. The second thing was another light somewhere in the distance of the city, judging from where it was it was were those elements of the 1st Armored and the IFV column they were escorting were. Except this one had a red light emanating from it.

Then James felt that tingly feeling as he heard in his radio of the Russian fleet getting hammered by the missiles and of general confusion and panic at the anomalies appearing. And with the circle he was in basically encompassing the entire park and a whole city block in each direction... it was going to be a bumpy ride.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking...<strong>

**Sergeant Jay Lambert...**

**85th Infantry Division...**

**Camp Shelby Hattiesburg, Mississippi...**

Jay never did claim to be well versed in the art of explanation or diplomacy. Despite what Colonel Hughes and Lieutenant Colonel Keating's have been telling him for encouragement, Jay was completely out of his element. And he knew it. What's more he had, under orders, try to explain the situation to members of the JTF2 squad that had been called in by going through the Canadian Department of Defense (DND). And Jay had to admit, it was a very intimidating thing trying to talk to Special Forces operators.

JTF2 were often fielded to take on Special Operations and counter-terrorism missions, the Spec-Op's Force based out in CFB Trenton. They followed the motto of Facta Non Verba: Deeds, Not Words. And seeing as they are a part of the worlds Tier 1 operators, it was clear to see why this is the case. They were professional, disciplined and were on par with American Delta Operators. Many people would make jokes how the Canadian's either had no military or carried muskets and had a navy consisting of some guy on a tug boat with a shotgun taped to it; but seeing the men and women of JTF2 in front of him showed that that's all the joking comments were. Canadian's were seen as Peace Keepers and Humanitarians while the States were seen as the World Police, at least by a decent sized chunk of the world. Despite this, it was clear that despite rivalry's between the two nations and their militaries that they were still allies regardless. Now if only Jay didn't have to try and be the one explaining why men from an allied nation were called over...

The man that stood in front of him was a 33 year old Captain dressed head to toe in his nations battle dress uniform and combat gear; CADPAT. He looked like he had seen a number of engagements in his service, even wore a few scars from his battles on his face. His name, off the record, was Liam Winters, in charge of leading JTF2's "Ambush Squad". Though his call sign was designated as "Hitman". He and his team of seven other JTF2 operators have spent a whole 48 hours waiting for their orders to disembark to their aircraft, sitting in an airport terminal for the C-130 to finally get prepped for takeoff and for the eight man team to be debriefed on arrival. With the Captain and his team still standing on the tarmac as they had been given the reasons as to why they were flown to the FOB in the first place, it was clear that they weren't buying it.

Captain Winters, aka Hitman, looked flatly at the three American's that just gave him the most ridicules story he has ever heard before. "So let me get this straight... just so we're clear on this." He took a deep breath and began to summarize the entire situation. "You're telling me you got our company commander to wake us up from our bunks not even five hours after we arrive back in country from a mission, details of said mission if I may add are classified and on a need to know basis, to get our kit packed, wait for about 33 hours for the flight crew to get a transport for us on short notice while in the meantime we spend that time sitting on our collective asses in the terminal with no way for my men to occupy themselves, then finally get our aircraft, board it only for another half hour delay due to a loose bolt for the landing gear, then get our assess flown through Russian Anti-Air taking pot shots at us despite close air cover from both your F-15's as well as our own, and the reason we were brought out here in the first place is to search for ET?!"

There is a long silence before Colonel responds. "In a matter of speaking Captain."

Hitman had an unimpressed look plastered on his face, mixed with a great deal of fatigue due to lack of sleep. "Colonel forgive me if I seem short of patience; I have barley had my allotted one hour of sleep so I might come off as insincere and a might testy; but is this a joke? What's the real reason we were brought here for? No bullshiten."

Hughes sighed. "I shit you not Captain." he realized that this would be a challenge to convince people of the situation that they are now finding themselves in.

Chief Warrant officer Tyrone Lawson, also known as "Roadie" by his team, looked to his Captain with a mild, joking look. "Maybe it's some sort of code Captain? Maybe "alien" is code talk for "drone proto-type" or some shit like that?"

Lieutenant Colonel Keating shook her head. "I'm afraid that's incorrect. We thought that at first but it's been bought to our attention by several of our people that were able to make first contact that these "drone-like-entities" are in fact an alien race."

Roadie turned to Master Corporal William Howard, also known as "Hook" with a flummoxed look. "Damn, this is turning X-files real fast bro." Hook nodded in agreement with the African-Canadian man's statement.

Sergeant Bianca Sanchez, code named "Cobra" looked unimpressed. She turns to the Captain questioningly. "Captain, are we going to be getting back on the transport or what?"

"I'm really considering it." The Captain responded flatly.

Jay interjected. "Sir, I realize this is insane, believe me I'm right behind ya on that one. But from what those three guys from Hunter-2-1 told us about this other version of Earth, and about these aliens that the locals told them about; these things can become a huge ass problem for us. We need your help on this one."

"Look we came here to help you guys with an actual mission. We risked our lives just getting into the country, and I'm telling ya; if this is some sort of joke it's not a very god damned funny one." Hitman was clearly short of patience, but Jay probably figured the lack of sleep didn't help. "If you want our help with something then you guys have to be straight with us here."

Colonel Hughes frowned. "I understand your concerns Captain, but you must understand that we are now living in strange times. Stranger then the normal level of strange around here in fact."

As if on cue a blue glow seemed to materialize out of seemingly nowhere on the FOB's grounds, grabbing everyone's attention. Military personnel scramble to surround the portal with infantry small arms. hummers, and IFV's pointed directly at the event horizon. Jay, Keating and Hughes rush to the portal, moving at double time. The JTF2 Ambush Squad looked on slack jawed at the sight before Hitman orders them to get the lead out and to follow the three Americans. By the time the group of eleven reach the mass of soldiers and vehicles looking like their ready for a fight the bright light intensifies.

Once the light dies down the American soldiers and Ambush Squad are left staring at a truly bizarre sight: Four young girls in their mid to late teens materialize front and center wearing old uniforms and carrying ww2 era weapons and wearing no pants. Two of them were seemingly hovering above the ground by means of a pair of mechanical devices on their legs, held aloft for barley a second when the propeller devices suddenly sputter, and konk out, causing the two girls to flail and fall face first on the pavement as some of the soldiers spat out surprised explicative's. The two older girls helped the two girls on the ground back up.

The girl with the eye patch and pony tail had a concerned look on her face. "Are you both alright?"

"I don't know... that never happened before." One of the girls, replied. "S-sanya, are you alright?" The Girl; the one with long white hair and what appeared to be a blue tunic asked, her question directed at a smaller girl with short silver hair.

"Y-yeah." the small girl responds weakly. The men aiming their weapons at the girls tense as they hear that the small girl had spoken with a Russian accent.

One soldier, a private, grits his teeth. "That one's a Russian!"

"DON'T MOVE!" One of the Sergeant's orders. " DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND PUT HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!"

The girls seemed to take notice of the soldiers sudden aggression towards them and seemed about ready to defend themselves, but Jay recognized the Red headed girl in the German uniform from before, the same one who saved both his bacon and that of the other American troops that time. He forces the rifles of one of the men in the circle down to the ground. "HOLD FIRE! HOLD FIRE, DO NOT SHOOT! THEIR NOT HOSTILE! STAND DOWN! STAND DOWN!" he moved to several other solders and started pushing down the barrels of American small arms to the ground before they had a real problem to deal with.

The red haired girl looked around the circle and recognized Jay. She looked to him with a straight face. "Ah, I remember you." It sounded more like a statement if anything.

Jay nodded, sounding short of breath. "Yeah, sorry about the cold welcome. Everyone is on edge, what with the last group to come through this thing."

The girl nods. "I understand. With permission, may I speak to the Officer in charge?"

Hughes approached from behind one of the soldiers in the circle, still looking on with surprise that these girls. Many of the other soldiers were looking at these four arrivals with a mixture of surprise, fear, suspicion and confusion. The fact these girls were pants less didn't help things for that matter. He steeled himself and then cleared his throat. "That... would be me; Colonel Hughes, COIC of Camp Shelby Hattiesburg, Mississippi." it was clear that he wasn't quite prepared for the surprise travelers.

The red headed girl seemed thoughtful for a moment, then snapped to attention. "Wing Commander Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing. These are my Subordinates; Major Mio Sakamoto, Flying Officer Eila Ilmatar Juutilainen and Flying Officer Sanya V. Litvyak."

This was a surprise for both Hughes and the other soldiers; she belted that little number out as though she were career soldier of many years. And she addressed the Colonel in a formal, military introduction. Ambush Squad was beside themselves, although Jay figured everyone was feeling that by this point.

The American Colonel looked to the alleged wing commander, who couldn't have been any more then nineteen. He had a guarded look as he spoke to her. "Forgive me, but you are currently un-authorized to be on this base. What exactly is your purposes here?"

Minna's eyes, though appearing reddened, remained firm. "We came seeking your help." she stated simply.

Everyone blinked in surprise. The Captain of the JTF2 squad raised a bemused eyebrow. "Help with what exactly?"

Minna continued to look straight at the Colonel of the base, this young woman's determined resolve felt unshakable. "Sir, if you allow us onto your base as guests, we will tell you our reasons for coming here in full. All I ask is the safety of my girls." She breathed evenly. "I promise we have no ill intentions to anyone on this base."

Hughes's mouth shifted thoughtfully for a few moments, considering the terms she laid out to him. After looking over the pair of girls he spoke with a guarded tone. "Very well, but I will require a show of mutual trust. If you disarm yourselves and answer a few questions for us peacefully then I will guarantee every measure is taken to ensure that all of you are treated with respect and dignity. Are these fair terms?"

The girl with the eye patch as well as the other younger girls looked hesitantly at the young women claiming herself to be a Wing Commander. They seemed unsure if following these terms set before them. The young woman who was in charge of the group straightened. "You are... American's... correct?" Hughes nodded affirmative. After a few more minutes of thought, she comes to a decision. "Then we will agree to these terms." she responds.

Jay could sense that today was going to get pretty damn weird...

* * *

><p><strong>Well that's Chapter 25. Also Cryska will be making further appearances as one of the few members of the Secondary cast, probably a step above Mauve shirt status. And she will be a very entertaining and exciting character to portray in WR141.<strong>

**As a closing authors note: I'm currently getting over a bug that has been going around, so I may need to take some time to heal up. Granted I'll still try and write but again the pace might be a bit on the slow side. Also I have become aware that the Neuroi haven't been showing up much so next chapter will be dedicated a bit to their development as well as some much needed Neuroi VS Witch Combat that we all know and love, so expect some action on that front.**

**Also another warning is that the upcoming chapter may have some potential lemon, and the second chapter after this will be featuring a very dark peace of subject matter involving one of the characters; both possessing elements for audiences rated M. I feel as a writer providing a story in this audience category that I have an obligation to give at least a warning before such elements appear. So if such elements make you uncomfortable or what not then now you know what you're getting into. **

**Also many of the elements in the WR141 I myself am no longer in any control of; the reigns of control belongs to the characters themselves as well as the narrative. I'm but a mere scribe for the characters. So if anyone is curious with some of these particular elements in this chapter and chapters to come, that is the reason. **

**Until Chapter 26; have a very good day and stand-by to stand-by.**


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

**Coordinates confirmed...encryption detected... gathering data... translating message... **

**Location... Command Operations Hive Designation- 334CC, Linz, Ostmark...**

**Confirming intel... cross referencing data and continuing translation...**

**Identifying...**

**Faction...The Collective...**

**Time... 1533hrs Zulu...**

**Meeting of consensus about to be underway between Kindred in charge of Ostmark controlled territory...**

**Tracking...Target Unknown: Insufficient Data...**

**Radio signals intercepted...Triangulating signal...Decrypting radio transmission...**

**Attempting to breach security firewalls: activating Trojan...standby...standby...standby...**

**Firewall breached...**

**Initiating information download procedures...establishing audio/visual link...recording transmission... back-up procedures ready and awaiting user authorisation...**

Within the Primary Chamber amongst his kin, a Neuroi held stoically. This was one of the many hives under the oversight of the Collective. Many hives sat upon this nation in particular; because of the concentration of the fleet and hives on this particular region and the fact it is made into a training, incubation and forward operations center it was providing their kindred with ease of access to a multitude of fronts, mostly towards the adjacent laying nations called Karlsland and Orussia. With each new hive constructed and Neuroi "born" both were deployed to adjacent nations to increase the existing garrisons. This nation; the country that the humans referred to as "Ostmark", was thus far proving to be a very key region for the Neuroi to hold in terms of staging effective logistics.

Neuroi.

That was the name that humanity had given them. Their true name... he couldn't remember their people's true name. It was a name lost to the young and even some of the older ones struggle to recall it. Only the eldest and wisest of their people or the few historians and scholars of their kin can remember it. They had taken many names the few times they came into contact with sentient beings, or so he was told. But when it came to the peoples of this world that his kin had contested, the humans of Earth... the name, once it's meaning was discovered... proved to be a fitting name for them. Neuroi..."Mystery"... to humanity their people were exactly that. They all took that name for their own, to become a name that they could be forever called. But the reason keeping this name where all others were only taken until cast aside when a sentient being gave them a new, fearful, hated slur was varied.

Some that took the name, mostly those in the Collective; decided that the name was one that would serve them in channelling and steeling their resolve in ensuring their survival. Some took, even embraced this name out of a strange sense of respect and admiration to a race that had for the first time been able to hold back and survive for this long against attempts to contest the planet, perhaps even hoping that it would be spoken as a name given to them by friends, though those who felt this way were members of the idealistic fools; those of the Mediators. Others meanwhile either thought the words meaning appropriate or more simply adhered to the fact it was a new slur of a name to take and so took it; not caring of much else on the subject.

Today, the Neuroi in question, Larel, was awaiting the arrival of the other kindred. He was aloft beside the flank of his Hive Commander, waiting for the last of the others in the Ostmark hives to arrive, awaiting for final consensus .Larel's sleek form was a highly progressive and advanced form of that of the fabled human prototype "Jets". He was large, but nowhere remotely near the size of the Babarrus class bomber Neuroi that he had on a few occasion escorted. He was the first of his forms class: a T-213 Wave Fighter Class, also known as a "Victorium". The front of his form had twin prongs with three ports on each prong; one encompassing the tip with two more a meter above that, as well as a pair of canards with a port each near the stabilizers in question, as well as a single port on the nose of his jet form. The wings of his jet-like form were swept back, near delta wing shaped with another six laser ports, three on each wing, in addition to one larger, heavy hitting port on either flank of his form where a human jets engine would lay. So far, such an extrapolated form had served him well in battle; his shell may have been of average strength, but the speed and manoeuvrability his form had was beyond exceptional.

As he gazed upon those currently in the hive he noted that most of those present were of the Collective. There were so far only a few handfuls of the Mediator representatives present. The reason for this, he figured, was because of the fate of the South Karlsland Mediator hive for attempting unauthorized diplomatic contact with the humans. Consensus was not carried out. The Collective feared that such an action left unchecked would serve to undo their people, threaten their existence. They did not wish for such drastic, radical action to repeat itself. Much like those many eons ago when this world was much younger...

Or at least, so he was told... such events were far before his time. He recalled his garden-kin, the little one he called "sister", his Kuro, and how he was quite fond of her. He was her older brother, and he sought to guide and guard her. But as they got older they saw the ways of securing the fates of their people differently. She was exposed to and embraced the manifest destiny of "Unity": To seek peace with other beings and ensure survival through co-operation which was a silly, idealistic goal. In reality such a thing in the Collectives eyes was unobtainable. Attempts made to other races before always failed, and in the end it came down to either ensuring their people survive or they all become extinct. To him, extinction was not an option.

But Larel pitied his "sister" and the Mediators. It was to some small degree, to him at least, commendable to want to follow such a path. But sadly it has no foreseeable success in its pursuit. Two of Kuro's friends; the twins Nuko and Naka: had perished trying to follow Unity. Nuko by the hands of humanity though the ports of one of the Collective; who's mind was shattered in captivity thanks to experimentation and torture at the hands of the humans trying to defend Gallia, through means of a human prototype weapon. And Naka because of her own subversive, defiant foolishness that forced the Collectives hand. He wondered if Kuro knew of the twins demise... he couldn't be sure...

Compared to those currently in the hive now he was one of the young. There were more than a few others like him who were to sit in on the meeting and view the consensus. There was a sudden plume of smoke, the result of several Neuroi "Displacing" into the hive. There was only one form of Neuroi that had thus far mastered such an uncommon technique: The human formed Mediators.

After the plume dispersed, to his amazement, he and the others were graced with the presence of one of the most well known Neuroi. Even if she were of the Mediators she at the least held a measure of respect from the Collective. Amongst her kin she was a being of beauty and wisdom, even if she was a very old Neuroi, one of the oldest in fact. She was old enough to remember the Neuroi's true name, their home worlds beauty and how it fell. She was amongst the few couple hundred who's age can be measured in millennia, and yet amongst fewest who still held on to the spark of youth. The form she had was that of one of humanities old legends; beings that human's called "Angels".

If viewed through human eyes she would have been quite stunning for a Neuroi in human form; a nude being of blackened steel, wings upon her back with a massive span of ten feet fully outstretched. Atop her head floated a red halo that consisted the focal point of her people's laser powers: a primary conduit of what they called the "Storm": one of the energy's of the universe that gift the Neuroi with their powers of weaponised light. She emulated the familiars of humanities witches; their champions of the "Flow", having features of an ancient bird of prey once native to Earth that had long since gone extinct, the name of such a creature long forgotten. Her hands contained a port each , both of which would focus the Storm and send forth a laser to defend herself with. At the tips of her wings were also a single port which served a similar purpose. The halo itself also could be used as a weapon in a sense, though it was both a technique and a skill unique only to this Angelic Neuroi.

Amongst her mostly were her followers, her disciples of unity. There was a considerable group of them this time, but still, their numbers were far outdone by the Collective. But Larel did notice other Mediator leaders that also made their presence known. Most of the mediator peers were hive leaders aids who's hive minds would allow their hive commanders to address those in this hive directly. By default those who embraced the path of "Unity" were in lesser number then the Collective's own, who followed the mission of "survival at all costs", and today the elders who were in charge of their Mediator kindred's wishes were in smaller number than normal. With so few Mediator consul, it was likely they were seething or mourning in solitude of a destroyed hive and comrades under their faction , abstaining from being physically present and instead, in likely hood, wishing to speak, listen and observe through the hive-mind once consensus begins. Unfortunately, it would still be likely that the Mediators numbers would still prove to be a factor to their detriment.

Larel's Hive commander, Ton, addressed the last arrivals of the Mediators, both within the hive and amongst the other hives by means of the hive mind. ["Sister Okypete, welcome. May the Storm guide you".] He said to the Angelic alien.

She returned the salutation. ["May the storm guide you."] The Neuroi woman's voice was passive and cordial, but carried a tone that while sounding youthful, carried wisdom. The one thing that was her greatest strength was not simply in the ways of combat, as skilled as she was in the Storm, but her talents in the spoken word. Such skills in speech would rival the Neuroi's greatest warriors physical prowess. ["Forgive me my delay. I was unable to bring with me other kindred amongst my peers to join us in this consensus."]

["That is quite alright dear sister, we are honored to have you grace us with your presence."] Ton then spoke to those present in the hive as the last of the Mediators found their places in the primary chamber, with Okypete, as well as the few hive leaders and hive aids gathering with the other lead Neuroi in the center of the hives interior. ["Now then, my Kindred. With the arrival of our brothers and sisters of our people amongst us , we shall begin consensus."]

One of the Neuroi on the side of the Collective spoke, opening the meeting's first topic of discussion. ["My kin, we are still locked in stalemate with the humans that is starting to slowly shift to the enemy's favor. For each piece of territory we take, the humans are able to take ground back. They have, as you are all likely aware of by now, destroyed the hive that was stationed in Gallia, and thus far are managing to hold their own against our forces attempts at breaking their lines. We require a new strategy to be implemented on a much grander scale."]

One of the hive aids for the Neuroi Collective brought up a screen that served as the Neuroi's hive mind, showing a large core floating in a hive sitting in another part of Ostmark. This particular Neuroi spoke through the hive mind. ["Agreed. It is our peoples way to adapt and survive. We must do so again and apply it throughout our people if we intend to ensure our survival."]

Ton spoke. ["Have we proposals from our kin?"] he asked.

A Neuroi on the mediators side spoke this time. ["Yes, brother Ton. To continue acts of aggression will only be met with greater aggression. We must try to negotiate a settlement between our people and the humans. I propose we try again to open dialogue and find a consensus with the members of the human race."] The sounds of disgruntled disagreement flowed from the many Neuroi of the Collective. It was yet another Mediator speaking of silly dreams that have no place in reality, and they made such thoughts clear. The Mediators groaned at once again being ignored by their stubborn brothers and sisters, too stuck in their old ways and too consumed with pessimism to consider attempting a new means that was devoid of aggression.

A Collective Neuroi hovering above the others, in the shape of a large disk and went by the name of Neer'a, spoke mockingly at the Mediator. ["Negotiate?! And what good would that do us? The last of you fools who tried to broker a deal of peace had her core destroyed by the humans after they took one of our own and drove him to madness! You intend to broker peace with these beings?! What a joke you speak!"]

A Collective Neuroi in the shape of a sphere named Dorn agreed, his voice calm. ["Indeed, it's a suggestion that sounds of poor humor. Brother mediator, if they wanted to make peace with us then they would have already. The humans do not wish to make peace with us. With that in mind, we have no other choice..."]

The Mediator attempted to explain. [It is not a joke, but simple reason. We-"]

The disk shaped Neuroi scoffed. [Reason? Your reason escapes us! Explain to us this reason for enacting such a policy?"] she demands.

Another mediator, one in female form, spoke. ["The humans fear us. We are the invaders of their world; of course they would fight us so desperately and use such measures. We give them no choice."] she argued.

A Neuroi of the Collective in the shape of a scorpion like walker, named Daa'l, spoke next in astonishment. ["And this excuses what they do to our people, does it!? Is this what you imply?!"]

The mediator rebutted. ["No, but if the roles were reversed we would go to great lengths as well to ensure we survive. We must seek to understand and then to be understood by them, otherwise-"]

A Collective Turtle XX-02 class in charge of one of the Neuroi "Listening-Dens" in Africa screamed in protest, interrupting the Mediator's explanation. [''To follow your ways would be an insult to our fallen kin! My Battle-bound were ravaged on the continent of Africa! I've lost sixty of them to the humans in battle, thirteen more on the trek to Europe for this consensus. I will not seek unity with those... those beings and their...their monsters of the flow!] His Collective kin murmured and groaned in agreement. He then continued. ["Besides it's as you said, if the roles were reversed we would go to great lengths to ensure our survival, and our battle-bound are ensuring exactly that! We are already a desperate race! I will not have the sacrifices of our fallen be in vain by allowing our people to die off!"]

Another female Mediator, while of considerable age, spoke with a meek voice and her form shyly withdrawn, tries to protest. ["B-but the young ones of humanity... t-their children of the flow... they are a grave obstacle that we have spent century's to best. And now in this past decade they have created means to boost their powers. We cannot expect to win through force, nor should we continue to do so. We must adapt or else we will be undone."]

The Neuroi engaging the consensus begin quarreling amongst themselves, and those who were standing to the side awaiting the ultimate decision also began to argue. Collective Neuroi proposing alternative battle strategies and war policies, the Mediators meanwhile trying to seek reason with the Collective, trying to argue paths of peace and coexistence. In the past three hundred and fifty decades most meetings of consensus have devolved into such arguments, and rather quickly then what was normal. Their people are becoming more and more desperate. Their numbers were at least sitting in a level of comfort before reaching Earth, but now it was once again being whittled down. The Neuroi have tired seeking the resources of other planets in this particular solar system, but few were viable, and those that were sat at levels somewhat below average. The only two worlds that were the most ideal in this solar system were Earth and the planet the humans called Mars...and Mars was long ago placed though processing once it's viability for the Neuroi was determined. And Earth, for the Collective at least... became a world of personal pain, misgivings and grudges. The Collective wanted closure, even if it meant it was brokered by means of their laser ports.

Ton's voice finally rises above the arguing. ["SILNCE!"] All the Neuroi fall quiet, waiting for the old Hive Commander to address those present in the hive, serving as the fulcrum of consensus. ["This bickering is pointless! We cannot waste what time we still have arguing amongst ourselves! We are gathered together to come to consensus. We must find a solution that will benefit all members of our people, Collective AND Mediators."]

One Neuroi on the Collective side, a Neuroi shaped like a delta wing craft with large cannons called Orrol, spoke. ["If I may be permitted, my kin in the Adaptive Progression Hive have put forth means to aid us in a decisive victory, granted one that will take some careful planning and execution."]

["Are you speaking of the subject of our last Consensus, brother Orrol?"] Ton asked.

["Yes, with a status update and an addendum."]

["Please, continue my brother; share with us what knowledge you have gleaned."]

Orrol moved in a way that would be akin to a human bowing. ["With pleasure."] Bringing up an image by means of the hive-mind he shows the events of the raid from a month ago, taken from his perspective as he was in high altitude from the main raiding force that day. ["As has been discussed during the last Consensus, the suggestion that our people now take the opportunity to finally put our age long, honed skills of "stepping" into motion. It has taken many solar cycles for the few chosen of our people to become versed in this highly difficult art but their talents and knowledge in the Strom and their abilities in this relatively new skill of our people will serve us well. The first attempt may have been a failure due to the scouting party, Sky-Strike stepping units and the air units charged with defending this force being killed or forced into retreat, our second attempt was thankfully met with far greater success."]

There have been many murmurs in intrigue throughout all the Neuroi, although only Okypete was silent, her arms crossed as she took everything in stoically. The Disk Neuroi, Neer'a, spoke with mild concern in her voice. ["But is it safe for us to cross the threshold into a reality with laws that differ from ours? If you recall-"]

[Our people have been hibernating until the turn of this worlds century in preparation for this day, save for the one hive we had allowed to stay watch over Earth and its people."] Orrol interrupted quickly. ["It wasn't a simple adaptation of our physical form but of our very essence. We have managed to receive a report from one of our kindred sent to establish a beachhead that the measures to adapt our essence to the other realms laws are successful, and it applies to every one of our people in that reality. Once ideal staging areas are scouted and hives both constructed and established we can finally grow our numbers to a greater rate than before, what with the new source and ready access to the resources required to birth our race's hivelings."]

Many of the Neuroi of the Collective seemed somewhat pleased with this news. If they are able to survive in the other reality and establish a beach head on the alternate Earth then they could possibly have a means of ensuring their survival once more. However the Mediators were very silent at this news, for they were quick to notice one small snag in this plan.

["What of the humans of this other world, this other Earth? Have the consequences for this plan been weighed if it's pursued?"] A mediator in the form of a human-formed male, Kie'ton asked. While being a Neuroi who embraced unity, he learned how to speak in ways that Collective Neuroi could receive and understand. Such a skill of verbal fencing being taught by his close mentor, Okypete, whom he revered.

Dorn considered this and spoke with agreement. ["Mediator brother Kie'ton, for once, raises a good point."] Both Collective and Mediators murmur in surprise: it was rare for members of the two factions to agree so readily on a topic, especially this early in a Consensus. The Sphere Neuroi explains. ["If we set our ports upon this other Earth we will have our forces split between two fronts in two realities. How do we ensure we do not over extend our reach? On top of that; how do we handle aggression from this alternate permutation of humanity should they decide to engage us? Pursuing invasions on this other Earth could end up undoing our people."]

The old warrior, Daa'l, spoke with careful thought, being a master in the art of ambush tactics. ["It must be with patience and caution. The other world has no friendly territory for us to seek refuge in, save for the planets crust. We must remain hidden as best as we can and amass enough of our numbers in that reality so that we may launch an effective invasion. We do that and our chances of success will be better."]

Another collective leader shown through the hive-mind spoke with a guarded tone. ["What of the aspects of the humans of the other world themselves, their nature? We cannot have a repeat of-"]

["No, that is a mistake we shall not repeat.] Daa'l conceded. [Our haste and ignorance of that day brought us to this dire straight in the first place... forever scaring pain in our cores, but it is a mistake we shall never again make. Intelligence and reconnaissance are our greatest tools to achieving victory. Have our scout and recon classes and those versed in the art of intelligence gathering deployed to this reality as well. We must know who and what we are dealing with, what sort of human people this other Earth has living upon it."] From the collective there was murmurs of mass agreement.

Orrol then spoke again. ["Yes, I agree. But there is one other thing we haven't addressed yet."] There was a short pause as everyone waited for him to continue. ["One of our kin in the Adaptive Progression Hive have developed a new means that could be crucial in helping us win the war.'] He then turned to the Mediators and spoke with some cheer in his voice. ["It may be a case where the path of Unity... may actually hold some merit as a strategy."]

Surprise arose from all the Neuroi, with the Collective murmuring in shock or demanding explanations. The Mediators conversed in confusion with each other, wondering what this could possibly mean? A Neuroi of the Collective, embracing Unity? He may as well be a Mediator!

The turtle screams at Orrol. [Unity?! Are you Collective or not?! Explain yourself!"] The turtle then used one of the few curses that it's people know of, which to human ears would sound like gibberish jammed into neutral.

Orrol speaks with a calm, almost bouncy tone. ["Allow me to explain; I first ask if you recall an old strategy attempted four years ago in Africa and another attempt in Suomus?"] Sudden murmurs went through the hive as they recalled the strategy's in question; the attempts to Brainwash the Witches of humanity, and to turn them against their human kindred. It was a plan that didn't last for very long, as the witches were able to finally break free of the control after the Neuroi controlling them was killed by their human and witch kin. [After analysing the data and reviewing the memories compiled in the hive-mind the one thing that I found to have been flawed initially with this plan is a twofold problem; the first is the need of having one of our kind remain in proximity to maintain control, and second is that the humans still saw those of their own kind under our control AS one of their kind."]

The turtle, now moved to subdued thought, questions with confusion. ["What are you proposing?"]

["I propose that we eliminate these two problems all together. The kindred I speak of has developed a means to ensure one of our people needs not risk their lives to remain in constant proximity to control these witches of the flow, and to ensure that humanity doesn't see these witches as one of their own in addition to implanting micro-drones to ensure they become one of our kin . They will become our kindred because they have no choice, it will hurt our enemy more then out and out destruction, and will serve to increase our numbers."]

The Mediators and Collective once again spoke amongst themselves at this plan. It sounded radical, drastic... underhanded. But these were desperate times. The Mediators felt great discomfort about this plan, wishing to reach out and elicit peace though humanities free will, but the Collective wanted a new means to survive, and in order to ensure that, they needed to try every avenue. After a while Okypete arose up to Orrol, electing sudden silence from the other Neuroi. She stood before her Collective kin and hovered before them silently for three full minutes. In that time everyone waited with baited breath for this venerable alien women to speak.

At last her voice flowed forth. ["This plan is not only an act of darkness which undermines the path of unity... this is a dangerous plan to enact on levels of strategy, for it is the plan of fools with hardened cores."] she said at last, her tone grim and her warning dire, very unlike her normally warm and soothing voice. We're she any other Neuroi the hive would have been once again in an uproar, but it was instead deathly quiet. Not even the Collective Neuroi uttered any words at this point, for they were in the presence of one of their people's old heroes. ["If we attempt this plan then we will only elicit further rage and ire from humanity. It was dubious and hazardous enough to control the minds of another sentient being to ensure our survival but this takes us further away from what our people once were, before the loss of our homeworld. To the humans we are already an enemy of mystery, to enact this plan would have them further see us as the monsters they believe us to be"] She turned to the other's in the primary chamber, unfolded her arms and looked around the hive, her voice rising in a tone of pleading. ["Have our people been so gripped with fear, so hardened by pessimism and so used to stripping worlds that we have forgotten what had brought us to this point in the first place? We as a people cannot continue to thoughtlessly wander the universe to ravage the worlds of fellow sentient's with impunity. If we continue to do so it will come to pass a day where we blunder upon a race that could destroy us with ease. Only twice have our people faced the potential of fading into oblivion and humanity could very likely be the second time this happens. Have we forgotten our place?"]

Most of the younger Neuroi were in awe of this speech made by one of the eldest members of their people. Those who shared her long lived age had mixed reactions, but most was of an uncomfortable shudder born of a memory so deeply buried, so terrible that it was locked away and was to never be shared though the hive-mind unless the elders authorized it, which in truth was almost never.

Daa'l sighed. ["No sister... we who had lived to see that day... those still around to remember...do not forget. That day had humbled us, made us know where we stand in the halls of creation. But all the same... we cannot let the light of our cores shatter. Sister Okypete, whatever happens, we must try every means we can to ensure that our people survive. It's because of that day we wish to do what we can to ensure we continue to exist. To ensure our children can live and prosper. You see that, yes?"]

Okypete looked to Daa'l solemnly. ["We wish the same goal brother. Like you, I wish to see our people live and thrive in this life... but I cannot see it in these ways that scar worlds and stain our ports with the blood of innocent life."]

Dorn, a kin amongst the Collective minority who were reasonable, drew a shaky breath. [Trust me, my Mediator sister: such deeds haunt us as well."] Dorn's voice dropped to a low whisper, guilt filling him. ["Even now I am haunted by it... but...we must... or else we shall fade from creation..."] the few collective like Dorn were reluctant but they felt compelled both by fear and desperation, despite the pangs in their cores at what they have done to worlds that were inhabited.

Neer'a then spoke adamantly, being one of those of the Collective majority that were unmoved by such sentiments, more concerned for finding methods to survival. [Sister, to be fair we have allowed some life on the worlds that we have come across... to allow them to mend and return to their glory, at your Mediator kin's pleadings I may add. Surely that should be enough for you?"]

Okypete's voice, while faint, became sharp as a knife. ["That still doesn't make up for the voices we have forever silenced."] she responds with a hiss. ["Do not dare fool yourself into thinking otherwise."] Neer'a's form shuddered and she withdrew a few meters back at the older Neuroi's words. There were few Neuroi that possess such commanding presence or who's cores held such fortitude of character. Only the well seasoned, oldest, most venerable and wisest Neuroi were capable of holding such sway amongst their peers. There was only been one other of such age, wisdom and fortitude amongst the Neuroi who would even rival Okypete in this regard. Sadly, this other Neuroi had become lost to their kindred; the how was unknown, but the why was regrettably tragic.

But one of the old Neuroi, a Hive leader shown on one of the Neuroi hive-mind images expanded its screen. The Neuroi in question was from a hive stationed in the human land of Karlsland, named Haaz'ahn . His hive-mind presence expanded to about three times its size and floated before Okypete. ["You best mind your words sister. Some of them sound dangerously similar to that... lost exile of our kin."]

["You know not what you speak."] Okypete made a vocalisation that was even by Neuroi standards hard to discern. ["You seek to contest me for slights and actions that I had no dominion of. That was a time long past and to open old wounds provides no benefit for either of us...as painful as they may be."] Her head tilted down to the floor of the main chamber, her form looking pained. [Though my shell is intact, my core is forever scarred from that day... and you'd have the thoughtless audacity to reopen it again..."]

One of the Mediators spoke loudly at Haaz'ahn in outrage. ["You coward! You would say such things to her though the hive-mind while locked in your hive in Karlsland?! At least say it to her in person you hollow shelled cur!"]

["That's quite enough! Let us not spark another pointless argument."] Ton ordered tersely. Trying to maintain order in the hive chamber was proving to be quite the daunting task this day. He turned to Haaz'ahn and spoke sternly. ["What's passed is passed. Do not dwell on it. Though she stands opposite of my fellow Collective as a Mediator she still wishes to work towards the betterment of our people. She always has, and had done so with great tact, honor, patience and respect. For all she has done she has earned the same in return. Speak no more of this subject."]

The hive mind of a Neuroi in charge of leading the Super-Hive tasked with overseeing Romagnan and Venezian operations, Won,'din suddenly grew large and made his presence known. He was a massive core, one of the most venerable and in charge of the few Super-Hives of the Neuroi people. And he was of the Collective. He spoke with a stern voice. ["Then I shall bring attention to a new development. Brother Ton, the Battle-Bound of my hive who volunteered to go forth into this other world in pursuit of the mission objective imparted a... disturbing report."]

Ton's core turned to Won'din questioningly. ["How so brother?"]

[The kin born of my hive reported that a Neuroi not of our hive made their presence known... and it was not a kindred of the Collective. It was a member of our wayward Mediators!"]

Gasps and shocked murmurs reverberated through not only the central chamber but the entire hive and hive-mind. There was very few times where a Mediator took radical measures in the pursuit of Unity. The very first time it occurred was eons ago and the one who was responsible would initiate the schism within the Neuroi people. A handful of the Mediators who were aware of this one member of their kin, sought to emulate her conviction and methods which only further deepened the schism.

["A dangerous, subversive, extremist fool! This blind half-wit seeks to destroy us with this fantasy of unity!"] One of the Collective bellows in rage. ["We must stop them at any cost from sabotaging our only hope for survival!"]

A Mediator shot up in horror, Mediator kin crying out in outrage along with her. ["You mean you'd seek this kin members death without consensus?!"]

The Collective Neuroi shot back belligerently as the hive again devolved into quarreling. [If it means the life and death of our people then yes! Who is this Mediator that seeks to ensure our destruction!?"] As the Neuroi once again quarrelled Okypete hung her head, growing more and more disheartened at the lack in co-operation.

Ton's power in the Storm crackled and hummed angrily, a bright red glow shining that illuminated the central chamber of the hive, silencing the quarreling Neuroi. He was tiring of the squabbling of his kin, acting as like poorly raised hivelings. He lamented how far his people to have fallen to in-fighting. Ton also knew that the few Mediators that held highest positions were Hive Leaders of entire hives. Okypete was one of the elder core; a Neuroi, unlike her peers, while not required to stay bound in a hive unless specifically required to, had as much power and influence to carry a position that rivalled these Neuroi who's venerable powers in the Storm helped guide the hive they were assigned to. Therefore either she or another Neuroi gave this unknown Mediator orders to infiltrate this excursion for reasons that were also unknown.

Without word to the now silenced quarrelers, he turned to Okypete and spoke slowly. ["Sister... I must ask for your honesty... do you by chance know this Mediator that Won'din speaks of."]

There was a pause before she responds. While mystery was vital for the ways of warfare against an opponent of the Neuroi, for social interaction and consensus, a degree of openness was essential, provided it was properly tempered. ["Yes brother, I believe it is one of my disciples, born from my hive."] Quiet murmurs were whispered between Neuroi in the hive at this news.

["Did you send her?"] He asked slowly, hoping that the answer wasn't what he feared. Larel glanced over from Ton to Okypete worriedly; he too feared to hear the answer.

Okypete paused again, her response coming after a moment. ["The only orders I bestowed were for her to go to one of the Mediator Hives and to aid them in their duties, for all she does for them she does for our people. Beyond that I have little knowledge as to what she was ordered to do."]

There was a long silence. Ton slowly considered this information; Okypete's orders only extended to aiding a fellow hive, and this subordinate disciple must either have been under orders of the Hive leader of this hive in question or had begun acting independently Was this really so? This was a puzzle, one that needed resolution.["I see... if that's true then something is afoot. We must investigate this carefully."] He then spoke to the kindred of the hive, momentarily moving on to a much graver issue. ["My kin, despite this suspect case there is a matter of greater concern; our attempts to try and take the human base in Romagna has thus far been fruitless, what with the "Stepping-Point" under the enemy's control. Although we attempted a diversion to take attention away from the Stepping-Point the humans and their witches of the flow have repelled our kin. It will be difficult but we must try establishing a new Stepping Point in a remote location, far from human detection. This issue also requires our attention; have we any that may enlighten us with their knowledge in resolving this dire task?"]

Larel saw the turtle from Africa turn to a small hive-mind screen in confusion, an exchange between the Turtle and his Den commander before he spoke with some alarm in his voice. ["Forgive me brother Ton, but my Den Commander has informed me that one of our BattleSwarm has be caught in a unstable Stepping-point and flung forth from the continent of Africa from the Northern Staging Front into the other reality."]

Concerned murmurs traveled through the hive. Ton spoke with some amount of worry. ["Do they know the location?"] During the last attempt at stepping an unforeseen complication had arisen; though manipulating the very fabric of creation instabilities were fluctuating throughout the regions on Earth. And thus far they have been uncontrollable. It was a factor the Neuroi haven't conceived, nor could they know what sort of ramifications would come of this new factor in the war.

["Negative, their last message was that they were unsure where they were, but it is a strange and frightening world...also it cannot be confirmed but..."] The turtle hesitated. ["Even stranger is that one of our kin in the sky claim that two army's of humanity in this world...are fighting each other..."]

More surprise reverberated through the hive. The Neuroi have only known that humanity in this reality, their own, united against them to defend this world, this Earth. And amongst the Neuroi themselves, despite some disagreements, wished only to try and work together for their people. The thought that a race would do more than quarrel with itself, but to wage full and open war on their own kin, was strange a concept, though it was one that the old Neuroi have seen occur on occasion on worlds long past. Even in the few cases of dealing with radical Mediators, the Collective haven't often seen anything like this, never on such a scale... but there were a few on both sides that feared this might occur for them in time should things stay as they are. It was this point that Ton ordered an intermission in the consensus. Many Neuroi took their leave but Okypete, Won'din, Haaz'ahn, Kie'ton, Orrol and Larel were still present before Ton. There was a final issue that needed addressing, one that required a private, closed consensus.

Won'din spoke firmly to Ton. ["We cannot allow this way ward fool of a Mediator now in the other reality from jeopardising our mission. We must take action."]

Haaz'ahn grunted in agreement. ["Yes, she must be made an example of. Brother Ton, we must send the Sicari after this extremist Mediator."]

Kie'ton spat angrily at the two Collective Neuroi. ["You know not her intentions! Schattan wishes only the best of our people. It is her dream for us to prosper, and you would destroy her for an imagined threat?!"]

Haaz'ahn growled in anger. ["So the traitor has a name? And how would you know of her true intentions, brother?"]

Kie'ton spoke matter of factly. ["Before being assigned to this new hive she told me in her own words. It is her wish for our people."]

Orrol sighed evenly. ["Even if these intentions are true she acts without consensus, or at least without true consensus. Without consensus we would tear ourselves apart and undo our people all the quicker. We would devolve into maddened anarchy. With consensus we have order. "] He turned to Ton. ["If we must carry out judgment swiftly then my hive kin have something that we could try; my hive kin have trained a young hivling, named Shein, who shows promise in the Strom. She has taken on the form of a new Sicarius Class variant that was born from the minds of our kin; the "Vier" type Sicarius. We intend to have her put through field testing to see how this new form for our people would perform. The power of this new form is twice that of a standard Sicari, perhaps even more."]

Okypete and Kie'ton were taken aback. Sicarius Neuroi were a very grim member of their people, born from the minds of the Collective. They were assassin class Neuroi: hit-men, sweepers, Hunter-Killers. Master Neuroi of close combat, hunting, subduing, even elimination if need be. Their laser powers in the storm were different in that instead of atomising or burning opponents their laser ports produced hard light tendrils that were used to bludgeon, crush and entrap and their bladed, laser tipped limbs could punch through Neuroi hides like a hot knife through butter and their appearance was some grotesque, bipedal machine, as if a jet and a set of kitchens knifes created some sort of unholy, humanoid spawn. In the past Sicarius class Neuroi were tasked with tracking, subduing and even eliminating enemy leaders or subjects of social or strategic importance amongst humanity that were considered vital, though they have been rarely dispatched against humanity. Mostly they were used to track, capture or eliminate Neuroi who acted without consensus, or were dangerous threat to the Neuroi people. Many of these Hunter-Killers were deeply loyal to the collective. Mediators saw them as grim, distasteful but necessary tools, and because of their ideologies only a small dozen of such Sicarius were in the Mediator's ranks. To hear of an improved form of Sicarius... this "Vier"... was created as a more potent variant of their people was... distressing.

Kie'ton turned to Orrol in astonishment. ["You cannot just send Sicari and condemn her to death! She is our kin!"] He then turned back desperately to Ton, trying to beseech mercy for Schattan. ["I beg of you brother, don't kill this young sister of our kindred! Let her show you she wishes the best for our people!"]

Ton spoke with a heavy core. ["That will be up to her to decide, my brother. I agree that we must bring her back and have her explain her actions, but if she refuses then our ports will be forced. Orrol, let it be known to this gifted new member of our people, Shein, that she try to bring Schattan back to us. If this Mediator kin refuses... then it is with regret... that her core must be shattered."]

["NO! YOU CANNOT!"] Kie'ton's form stiffened, his weapon ports began to glow in anger. He couldn't let a dear sister of his people be killed like this. It was at this point that Larel interceded. With a sudden thrust forward he stood between the Collective and the two Neuroi of the Mediators. His own ports glowed red as he began to focus the Storm into his ports.

["Please my brother... do not force my ports like this. If you act this way I will take measures to defend my Collective kin. "] Larel warned the Mediator. Kie'ton, had he any eyes, would have glared at the jet shaped Neuroi. Larel didn't want to have things go this way, as loyal to the Collective as he was. ["Please..."] he begged, his ports intensifying as he tried to reason with the small Mediator before him.

Okypete placed her hand on Kie'ton's shoulder, the male form Neuroi looking to her in surprise she spoke to him. ["Temperance young one. Your death will not accomplish anything. All it will do is weigh heavy in our cores."] Her hand gripped him pleadingly.["Kie'ton: I promise that I will do what I can to ensure our sister is given a fair hearing. Have faith that the Storm will guide her, my brother... I cannot bear the loss... of another kin of unity."]

Kie'ton looked to the Neuroi woman in amazement. Confused realization set in as his ports slowly dimmed, electing Larel's ports to also dim. The human formed male Neuroi looked to the Collective with hurt upon his humanoid form and spoke bitterly. ["We need not worry about humanity destroying us... our own kin do it for them..."] He then tuned to leave, slowly hovering out of the primary chamber. Before he stepped out of the chamber he looked back to Okypete solemnly. ["I have little faith anymore in these troubling days ... how can any of us when this fate is our own?"] He sighed shakily. ["But... if I can put any trust and faith in anything... it is you, sister Okypete... may the Storm guide you..."] With that, he left.

Ton sighed and looked to Okypete, he could sense there was something deeper then what seems to appear. ["Tell me sister, is there anything more that we must know of this Mediator, Schattan? Has she heard stories of... her?"] he asked.

Okypete was silent for the longest time. ["I know not."] she replies at last. ["But my brother... every member of our kin who's core is shattered is a kindred forever lost. Woeful enough we lose them to other races, must we be responsible for inflicting the loss by our own ports?"]

Ton was left with little options, but after hearing the old heroine's words he concedes. [I understand sister. If she allows herself into our charge I will ensure that our lost sister is given as much fair hearing and judgment as possible. If she does not, then there is little I can do. Forgive me."]

Okypete looks to the old core of the collective, an old, painful memory coming forth after all these centuries... memories of someone dear to her core who became lost to her. The fear of loss she felt in ages come and gone were resurfacing for her disciple. ["This cannot go on, brother Ton, for if we continue we shall be brought to ruin. Though we stand on different sides, that cannot mean we must quarrel without end; amongst ourselves or these people on this planet which we engage. Please... will you heed my counsel?"]

["When consensus is reached we will act accordingly sister. I understand your feelings but we all must come to a final decision, and lead our people to prosperity through the final choice decided. You know our kin entrust us to lead them, so lead them we must. For now we must break; then we shall return to proceedings of consensus shortly."] Ton spoke to those left in the central chamber, speaking the customary salutation of their people. ["May the Storm guide you."]

Larel was dismissed along with the remaining others watching with a measure of awe at the Fabled Okypete; a woman of calm rational and of indomitable words. Even those who sat counter of her beliefs couldn't help but be moved by her. The Storm had truly gifted her in the spoken word. Once outside he watched the elder Neuroi float off, likely to reflect on the consensus. As Larel hovered in the air he overheard two Neuroi who were nearby that were amongst the youngest of the Neuroi's kin. Both were speaking in debate, a pair of the many awaiting the word of their elders. One was a Mediator, her form similar that of Nuko and Naka, may their Core's be at rest. The other was a Collective Neuroi who's form was that of a recon class designated unit. Both Neuroi may have once had spoken with firm passion about how to ensure the security of the Neuroi's fate, but then that passion began to putter out and die, both now spoke with grim, bitter tones, sounding as if lost.

["I disagree brother; I know we stand on different sides of the hive, but surely you must see that continuing to fight with humanity will only shatter us into shards, right down to the last of both our kin. We've been in contestation of this world for far too many cycles and our numbers get smaller each time we march into the fields of engagement."]

The Recon class Neuroi sighed. ["I cannot refute that. I have lost many of my kin trying to gather intelligence in Bittania. It gets harder and harder to see their cores shatter so easily by the hands of humanity."]

The young mediator became genuinely confused and rueful. ["If this planet is costing both humanity and us so greatly... why is it we Neuroi don't leave this world? There are many planets out in the vastness of space with resources that we can use. Why do we continue to cause pain both to ourselves and the peoples of this world?"]

The Recon Neuroi groaned. ["I'm unsure really... well, I remember that my Unit Commander said that it was for the diversity of resources on this world... but a story from my Element Commander which he shared with me said that something happened when the peoples of this world were young. Something that scarred the cores of our eldest."]

["But this was long before our time, yes?"]

["It was. It must have been a very bad thing if our leaders wish to continue Earths Contestation."]

["I wish we didn't have to. This world is so... pretty. Our Storm scars this world... I feel... so sad seeing this world getting marred by our powers in the storm."]

The Recon Neuroi considered this. ["I suppose it... this world... is pleasing."] He conceded. ["But, do you really think the human's would really share it with us?"] he asked skeptically.

The Mediator sagged, doubting that this could be a conceivable outcome. ["I wish it be so... but alas... it is unlikely... but still we must try, can't we?"]

["Doubtful. I believe that it would be best for our people just to move on and find another world that we can collect resources from. One preferably without other sentient's on it, if what some of the elders have said of these other worlds be accurate."]

["I guess that would be the only good choice to make to ensure we all survive and grow."] The Mediator was silent a moment but looked to the Recon class questioningly. ["What do you think would happen if we came across another world with a sentient race living on it?"]

["By the Storm, I hope not, but if we did and they be anything like humanity then I hope we stay as far away from them as possible. Our people nearly went extinct once, we cannot allow ourselves to get remotely close to that state again."]

["But wouldn't it be wonderful if we could unite with them? Perhaps that could help us survive?"]

The Recon class scoffed bitterly. ["Unit commander and Element Commander told me the last attempts we made always failed. Face it my sister: we are a hated race. To other beings we are a frightening mystery to fear, hate, despise and destroy. Nothing we do can change that. All we can do... is ensure that we live."]

Larel sighed, deciding to patrol the hives surrounding airspace until consensus is reconvened. As he took wing, the words of the youth of his race echoed in his mind. The Neuroi were indeed becoming a lost people. All that he himself could think of was to carry out his duty and hope that his elders could lead their people to salvation. The alternative outcome cannot be allowed to come to pass.

* * *

><p><strong>Task Force 141 - Disavowed<strong>

**Tracking... Gertrud Barkhorn...**

**Taiwan, Somewhere between Fuxing Township and Yuanshan Township **

**1 hour and thirty minutes before embarkation to African Safe house and commencement of mission...**

The amount of Loyalists assigned to be present for this mission was impressive. Well over sixty plus men and even a small handful of women as Nikolai's best and most trusted comrades was impressive. All of these people were here to put their lives on the line despite odds they were faced with. Aside from them were the members of the Task Force, also facing a daunting task before them, but they were operators undeterred by the impending challenges.

Still wearing her Strikers, Gertrud hovered above the formation of soldiers with their gear at their feet, all of them awaiting the aircraft charged with flying them to Africa to undertake the Task Force's next mission. For this particular mission she had opted the use of a MK46 with holographic sight as one of her primary weapons. One other weapon she had opted to use was a weapon she had learned was called an M32 Grenade Launcher, also known by some as a "WarMachine". It was a weapon that she was unfamiliar with and had to be instructed in its operation.

The Milkor M32 MGL was a rotary-cylinder type Grenade Launcher that could hold up to six rounds, and even came with a specialized optic that aided with use at long range. There was a release mechanism that allowed the back of the weapon to swing out and permitted the loading and reloading of 40mm Grenades, although the cylinder first had to be rotated back into place in order for it be fired again once all six rounds were expended. The weapon could fire any sort of grenade ammunition; from fragmentation, high explosive, HEAT, incendiary, smoke, tear gas and several other types. Both the MK46 and M32 were secured via weapon slings, in addition to a Beretta in a drop leg holster on her leg, just above her striker unit.

The one thing that was quickly apparent was that Gertrud carried on her a ridiculous amount of ammunition pouches, she had six Pro-Arms M203 Pouches on the torso and chest of her load bearing gear that could hold six 40mm shells each, as well as sixammo pouches for the ammunition used for the MK46, four on the side and two on her back, in addition to the camle bag that was snuggled between them. A knife Scabbard was on the left shoulder of her load bearing vest and on the right was a grenade pouch for two grenades. While it was no where near the load she had to carry while using the Ether Jet strikers, by mundane standards she was carrying enough wepons and ammo to encomber the majority of typical military personel.

But then again; Gertrud wasn't a typical, mundane soldier...

She continued to inspect the Loyaliest Troops, ensuring everyone was squared away and ready for their marching orders. She sought to ensure that unit disciplin was well maintianed. This was quickly growing apparent to the Loyalists in the short time Trudy was with them. Even those who origionaly came from military backgrounds were amazed at her; how commited the young girl was to discipline. And apprently their standards weren't enough for her. A few men who took an occsaional gaze up at her nethermosrt regions as she passed were met with a sharp glare as she quickly desended and pressed her nose to their face and ordered their eyes front, not up at her panties. Knowing what she was capaibule of they unanimously complied.

Taking a moment to reflect, Trudy had taken quite some time over the past couple of days trying to get a better understanding of this world she was now in, opting to read a few books that related to history, science and other similer subjects. When Price noticed her reading on her own time and asked if their was anything he could help her with, she replied that she wanted to understand more about the world the Task Forced lived in. It was then that she was introduced to the worders of the Internet, granted this came after a rather lenghty toutorial on how to use a computer. Once given a crash course thanks to Roach on basic computer use, and after she somehow destroyed the motherboard of one computer though accedently overloading the CPU (how she did that was unclear by everyone involved) they pointed her in the direction of a online encyclopedia. Something called a "Wikipedia", whatever that meant. She started with German history, starting from anchient historical events that occasionally differed from her worlds Karlsland at points to events that occured in it's modern years, though she remembered with great, sickening discomfort of the events that Ghost, Roach and the others told her about their Germany in their world, only with much more grim detail.

However, while doing this she found that paticular "links" took her to diffrent pages and articles, most of only fringe, tangental relivance to the topic she was researching, but mostly others that were unrelated. After stumbling upon a link that talked of German culture, she then found herself happening upon topics ranging from German automobles, brew and cooking, information on a dog called a German Shepherd, things called "video games" that featured dogs, global economics, middle eastern genocieds durring the turn of the mellienium, barazillian choclate sales and production, class warfare in the United States and the foundation of UNICEF to the BP oil spill, myths about Russian spirits, a topical discussion of Macbeth, a few baffling news stories from the state of Florida (which she was sure was a place devoid of all reason or logic) and Japanese dinner preperation, which then, somehow, took her to articals on something called "Manga" and "Anime", finding it was a sort of entertainment medium.

She looked up examples of the medium in the searchbar and found an endless amount of content leading to librarys upon librarys of shows and visual books in the genre. She lingered more on the... "Adult Manga" involving romance between big sister and little sister charicters more then should would care to admit. A part of her woundered if perhapse Ghost would be able to purchase one for her, but she shook that thought away quickly. From their she accidently stumbled upon other sites that ranged from weird, disturbing and baffling or had lead to sex sites even though realisticly the titles they had shouldn't have even taken her to such places of debachery, before finnally stumbling upon a fetish site that promantely featured goats and pie, with a subcatagory on sexy, designer toasters.

At that point she decided that was more then she needed to know and shut off the computer, when she then realized that she had spent a whole 24 hours, without any food, drink or sleep, having spent the whole day absorbing every facet of the internet, her stomach growling in stern protest at being neglected. A lot of the things she had seen made her loose faith in humanity, regain that faith again or had driven her to baffled confusion at the weird, insane or stupid events that filled this world, often over the course of just five miniutes per subject. Thankfully she had the chance to recover from that experience and was now properly squared away. With that little mental divergance complete, she continued down the formation of troops

Once she came came across Cryska in the line along the final coloum of the ranks, at which point she stopped and decided to perform a detailed inspection of this snipers gear, though she used the term "Sniper" loosely. She wanted to make sure that this Russian woman would at the least act somewhat like a soldier out in the field.

Cryska notices Gertrud descend in front of her and gave a warm smile in excitement. "Ах! Здравствуйте еще раз капитан!"

Gertrud looked at Cryska with a flat look. "Have your weapons and gear ready for inspection." she orders evenly.

Cryska blinked but her smile held strong. "Da! After you're done inspecting my weapon and gear, perhaps you would like to inspect me, Captain?" she asked in a somewhat suggestive tone, retrieving her rifle from her back and presenting it for inspection, the corner of her mouth hooking up playfully.

Gertrud took a second to realize that Cryska's mind still hadn't left the gutter and was still trying to reel in the young Karlslander with dirty talk. "That's enough, thank you!" she exclaims in exasperation. She takes the time to look over the young woman's battle-dress uniform and gear. Once done with that, satisfied it was to at least an appropriate standard, she moves on to Cryska's rifle. She notices that the weapon shares some similarity to a particular weapon used primarily by the other Loyalist Snipers, known as Dragunov's, except this particular rifle in Cryska's grasp seemed much more cut down, with the locations of the trigger-grip assembly and the magazine well being reversed, in addition to possessing a large muzzle brake on the barrel. Trudy inspected the weapon closely then took the weapon, checked the firing chamber, followed by inspecting the scope and returning the weapon to the fair skinned sniper. "It's well maintained, I'm quite surprised. And Impressed." the young witch responds at last.

"спасибо, I can't use this weapon very well if it's in poor shape, so I make sure it's well taken care of."

"Ah, I see. That's good." Gertrud looks at the weapon again in curiosity. "What is this weapon called exactly, I haven't seen one like this before."

"It's an SVU, or at least that's what I've found out it's called. It's a very good rifle, I like the light weight and the fact it's compact, easier to use."

Gertrud seemed satisfied with this, but one other question came to her mind, realizing she hadn't heard of Cryska's prior military history. "I'm somewhat curious, how long have you served in uniform. What was your rank and what unit did you serve with before coming here?"

Cryska responds in a cheery, yet matter of fact tone. "Oh, I'm not military." she replies.

Gertrud blinked, unsure if she heard that right. "I'm sorry?" She didn't really hear that, did she? _Did Cryska just say she didn't have prior military service? Many of the people under Nickolas command had some form of prior military training, but if Cryska didn't have any prior service that would make her... what exactly WOULD that make her-_

"I'm a civilian." she replies cheerily.

Gertrud's mind failed for a moment. _A civilian? On a military base? Serving alongside soldiers?!_ It was unfathomable! "Is this some sort of joke?! I mean... you're in uniform-"

"Well Nikolai did give me fatigues and I know how to shoot pretty good, but really that's as military as I get to be honest." she admits with a meek smile.

"I... but...how..." But the more she thought about it... maybe it didn't seem so farfetched. Her personality would have made her at best, only mildly military in terms of discipline and training. "Actually... I suppose that makes some measure of sense... but it does leave a lot of questions. If I can ask, Cryska-" Gertrud stops when she realizes she never caught the Russian woman's last name, that seemed like something that an officer should know about the people she fights with; the names of their comrades. With this in mind she decided to ask the women herself. "If I may... seeing as you are going to fight with us despite being a civilian, I don't think it would be prudent of me to serve with a comrade I didn't know the full name of, may I ask what your last name is?"

Quite suddenly, to Trudy's surprise; Cryska's expression had in an instant changed at the drop of a hat. The Russian woman's smiling, jovial, bright face became stoic, hardened. The light that shone in her eyes were immediately butted out, her purple iris's seemed lifeless and they seemed focused and as cold as steel.

"I'd rather not be addressed by my last name." she stated simply. Her voice was flat, distant, Trudy would dare say unfeeling.

This had shaken the witch a little. She had never seen someone possess such a personality shift, neither in Erica or Yuna. _W-what is this? Her personality changed completely. I think only Yuna-_ Trudy interrupted her own thoughts when she started to compare Yuna with Cryska. _No... even with Yuna that's just her being professional; that laidback , friendly aspect of her character is always there, just hidden beneath a professional mask. And even her eyes still had that spark._ She looked at Cryska with slight unease. _She's different then Yuna..._ _that spark is gone now... as if someone flipped a switch._ A part of Gertrud wondered what was going on with Cryska. The only thing she was able to connect was that this change was triggered when she asked about Cryska's last name.

It was at that point she realized that something might have troubled the young woman in regard to this subject, so she decided to back pedal, quickly. "I... understand. Forgive me if I'm prying at all. If it's private then I won't press into it." She filed away a little mental note to try and avoid bringing anything up that may trigger this sudden personality change, especially if it proves to be a hazard in some way.

Cryska's face was still locked in that cold, hard look. "It's okay." she stated again. Not to mention that voice: before sounding bubbly and akin to a immature teenager now sounded as if a different person was now speaking to her, it sent chills down Gertrud's spine. It was very clear now; this was a different Cryska then the one she was speaking with mere moments ago.

Gertrud decided that it would be best to give the women her space. "Well... I suppose that is all for now... I guess we can talk more later. At ease..." Cryska gave a small, short nod. With that Gertrud hovered up and continued down the line of men awaiting in line for the aircraft. While she did find the incident involving Cryska to be unnerving, a part of her had a form of morbid curiosity as to what could have been responsible of this particular element in Cryska as a person. Perhaps she will come to know this in time...

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Sergeant Yuna "Scope" Kotoro...<strong>

The subordinate members of the Task Force were getting into line with their gear, preparing for the upcoming mission. Yuna was fourth in line, with Soap, Ghost and Roach, in front of her and both Toad and Yuri right behind her. Price and Nikolai were front and center before the squads of men in formation ready for disembarking. Deciding to go over her gear one last time, she began setting down her field pack; the G4 Operator Backpack with rifle scabbard that she used quite often with a Mk 12 SPR kitted out with collapsible stock and snipers scope, secured in the scabbard itself. The top three sniper systems that she used with frequency in her service were the SR-25, the MK 12 SPR and Barrett M82A1, while for assault rifles she found that the FN SCAR-L and M16A4 or the M4A1 were her bread and butter, although she would favor the SCAR-L if she had access to one. For sidearm's she carried, and often was inclined to carry, a pair of either USP's or M9 Berettas, today opting for the USP's in two drop leg holsters on her thighs. A few times she had duel wielded MP5K's in battle, but usually that was restricted to tight urban fighting and close quarters battles only, so generally it was an occasional occurrence at best.

As she set down her pack she notices Barkhorn slowly hovering over the heads of the Loyalists, inspecting each and every soldier in formation. A feeling of fulfillment washed over her, having felt glad in helping Gertrud out when she was hitting a major rough patch. With her magic being out of action for quite a while, something that she herself was amazed by and the younger girls moral dropping like a proverbial rock, it made the Sergeant feel good that she helped a fellow warrior out. After taking a moment to marvel at the Witch that hailed from Karlsland, which by the way was an odd name to call what is essentially Germany, Yuna returned her attention to her gear.

She enjoyed using weapon systems that were the perfect combination of durability and accuracy, but then again who wouldn't want such traits in a weapon system? Well, aside from stopping power of course. The weapons that she often utilized were ones that could provide that accuracy, though a few of them required meticulous maintenance to ensure they stayed accurate and functioned properly. She didn't mind that however; to her it was a relaxing, almost Zen like exercise. Aside from Meditating; training to ensure that her body's conditioning is maintained in addition to field-stripping and cleaning, and then reassembling her weapons helped keep her focus, sharpen her skills, and finally; in a way she would often struggle to explain to people, helped her feel as though keeps her spiritually centered.

As she goes through her gear she gets an odd feeling; a sort of cold chill right beside her that grabs her attention. Yuna turns to find a young woman who seemed to be exactly her age; she had the most interesting features of white hair and pale skin, though the girls purple eyes stood out as unique... but what stood out more than the color of her iris was the look of this woman's eyes when the Task Force sniper looked at them: they were hard, cold looking eyes. Eyes of a hardened women, a stone cold killer. Yuna had only on occasion seen eye's like that before, the eyes of someone who had gone through a lot of trauma, hardship and tribulation. Someone who had seen and done things. It then became quite a surprise to her when the feeling emanating from this woman suddenly shifts to a warm, bubbly feeling and the woman's face suddenly lights up in child-like awe when the Russian woman's eyes glance over at the former Ranger. The young woman's gaze locks squarely on Yuna's head as a sudden light that wasn't there in her eyes before was burning with intensity.

After taking a moment to adjust to this, she then realizes what may have caught the women's interest. _It's probably the hair. _She thought to herself. Wouldn't be the first time someone would end up mesmerised by her hair color. Although usually it was at best baffled, confused gawking at the weird hair color or sneers of derision born of preconceived thoughts from judgmental minds. This girl seemed to be genuinely ecstatic, which would be a first. _Though I haven't seen that reaction from it before...kind of a pleasant change of pace actually- _Her thoughts are interrupted when the young woman started to run her hand through the Task Force Snipers bright blue hair.

The woman's eyes were gazing with wonder at each lock and strand of Yuna's hair, her mouth open in amazement, like a child who had just received a long coveted Christmas present. The woman spoke with a measure of sincere, childlike curiosity. "Such beautiful hair! Is it your actual hair color? I can't tell if it's a dye or not."

Yuna blinked, slowly getting used to the fact the girl was in her personal space. Being the laidback type she was open to the fact that some people had different ideas how personal space worked for them, so it was something she was willing to adjust to. At least the woman wasn't an enemy combatant trying to stick a sharp implement in her person, so in that regard this wasn't too bad. "Well it's not something that can wash out, if that helps answer your question."

The woman's face shone even brighter, almost to an impossible new level. "You mean this is your REAL hair color?!" she asked in amazement, twirling some hair on Yuna's messy pony tail.

Yuna turned a little sheepish. "Kinda-Sorta... it's a bit of a long story really." Now that particular story was, in all honesty, a bit weird, complicated, and to some degree not of any great pleasure reliving. Yuna glanced over at Toad who had one eyebrow raised in mild interest, wondering much like her where this exchange was going. Yuri meanwhile had a very withdrawn, resigned look; she wondered why that was?

"If I may: where were you born and raised?" The woman asks.

"Well I was born in Japan, but I grew up in the US after I hit puberty, so I guess I'm what you'd call a dual-citizen." Yuna explains.

The Russian woman meanwhile, continued to marvel at her, an idle hand still running though the bluenette operators hair. "A well toned, well tanned, Japanese-American woman with such brilliantly beautiful blue hair!" Her eyes then fell on Yuna's G4 operator Backpack and notices the SPR in the packs scabbard. At this the woman is practically bouncing. "And a sniper too! It's almost like a dream! You're a woman after my own heart!" Before Yuna could ask just what the woman was going on about the woman's eyes gave the Task Force operator a quick scan from head to toe while a broad smile placed itself on the woman's lips, her eyes filled with a look that quite suddenly seemed... oddly worrying: a look of possessive desire.

Yuna tries to break the ice a little at this point. "Well I was a sniper back when I was a Ranger, so yeah, I was pretty good in that role. I don't think we have had a chance to introduce our-"

She then looked at Yuna with hopefulness on her face, drawing a step towards the Task Force Sniper. "Are you a virgin?!" she asked excitedly.

Yuna peered at the young woman questioningly, as she took an uneasy step back. "Y-yeah, but I-" The woman suddenly took Yuna by the shoulders and drew her in for a giant kiss. The Blue haired snipers eyes widen in shock at this sudden action, her mind going completely blank.

The woman then pulled back from her and spoke decisively. "It's decided: You shall be my future wife!" she declared loudly with pride.

Yuna, while wearing a hot, reddened face, blinked. Her mind was unable to process what was happening to her just now. She had clocked in many years of combat experience and dealt with a tough childhood growing up but this was uncharted territory for her. The fact a girl actually found her attractive and was following though with extremely forward behavior in that regard was an entirely new situation for the Task Force Woman. "Uwah?" That flummoxed phrase was the only thing she could utter in response to the woman's open declaration. She could see that quite a few eyes were resting on her and this woman making such a bold statement. Yuna tries to regain some sort of cohesive thought process back in her mind and tries to respond to what the Russian woman had declared. "I...um... I'm flattered that you find me... uh...attractive but, uh... I don't really swing that way." She responds absently. Yuna for the most part was attracted to men, though in truth she never really dated, often times she watched from afar. Although her high school years did get... complicated. Hopefully her informing the women of her sexual orientation will help let the purple eyed girl down easily.

The Russian woman's eyes then pull into a very seductive gaze, a mischievous smile forming on her lips. "Oh, you silly, beautiful, blue-haired Ranger ." She cooed in a smooth, alluring voice. "There's no such thing as a straight girl; especially when they get wet enough." The young woman surged into Yuna and engaged another kiss, embracing the bluenette in a bear hug and knocking her off her feet. Yuna fell backwards with the woman on top of her, her head hitting Toad's boot clad feet. She barely caught a glimpse of Toad looking on in slack jawed surprise. As Yuna's lips were assailed by the women's own she found her legs squirming and lightly kicking out as her motor functions became spastic while laying beneath the woman kissing her. Having been a luckless girl in high school who's disinterest in conforming didn't get her any chances with any sort of romantic relationships; this was her first kiss with anyone: man or women.

The women then pulled back and looked deeply into Yuna's eye's. "My name is Cryska..." she purrs passionately. "Tell me your name, my love. Such a beautiful Ranger surely has a beautiful name to match..."

_T-this...this isn't good. _Yuna swallowed lightly. "S-sergeant Yuna Kotoro... but I'm called Scope by-"

"Yuna... Kotoro..." the women repeated slowly, as if marveled and in awe of the Task Force Snipers name. The women who called herself Cryska pressed herself closely to Yuna, their faces mere inches from each other. She then brought her lips to Yuna's ear and whispered softly. "I must have you..."

Yuna then felt something nestle between her legs, something almost like a- "Whoa-kay! That's not a place for touching! None of tha- JESUS!" At the sudden molestation of her womanly parts Yuna tried to buck Cryska off, but the Russian sniper had a death grip on the Task Force operator, laughing giddily at the attempt to dislodge her.

"Ah, ah, ah my love, you cannot be rid of me so easily!" Cryska chided playfully.

Yuna looked up to Toad who's mouth was still slack and staring wide eyed as the two girls wrestled with each other on the ground, with Yuri standing behind him with a palm on his face. "Toad, stop standing there like a statue trying to catch fly's with your mouth and DO SOMETHING!"

Toad blinked for a moment, as if coming out of a trance. "Urm..uh..." He looks up to the Task Force standing in front of them. "Roach." He saw Cryska cup Yuna's face in her hands and pulls her into her lips. "Ghost?" Next he watches as Yuna tries to push the Russian sniper off of her but Cryska grabs the blue haired woman's wrists and pins her hands to the ground, planting yet another kiss that Yuna tries and fails to escape from. "Soap?!" While Toad's watching, one of Cryska's hands once again went for Yuna's crotch and the other under her rigging and BDU Tunic to reach her breasts, electing a frightened shriek from the former Ranger. Toad bleated. "HEY, GUYS!"

The other operators look behind them, only to be met with the sight of the female member of the 141 being pinned by one of Nikolai's girls. Soap, Ghost and Roach quickly surge forward and take a firm hold of the woman straddling Yuna. After a few attempts at trying to dislodge the assailant the three operators manage to drag her off of their battle sister.

"What the bloody hell is this scrapping about?!" Soap demands angrily.

Ghost shakes his head in disbelief. "Women's gone completely mental! Reign it in lady, stand down!"

Cryska tries to shake the three men off of her. "Let me go! I must have her!"

Roach shoots an angry glare at Cryska. "If you think we're just going to let you beat the crap out of her then you've got another damn thing coming lady!" Scope was one of his friends, and was someone that, though he was reluctant to admit, was someone he felt strong affection for. The idea that someone would try to hurt her really made his blood boil.

"I wasn't hurting her! I would never do such a thing! I was doing just the opposite!" she put in, sounding offended that they would even suggest she would do such a terrible thing to the object of her affections.

"Bullshit! We saw you on top of her, quit lying!" Roach spat as he glared at her, not wanting to take any nonsense.

However Toad responds with a weak, awkward look. "Urm... actually, they weren't... fighting." He looks down at Yuna as she stayed laying on her back in shock, seemingly frozen in place, a look of surprise plastered on her as she was blushing red. "They... we're...urm... they were..."

"They were what?! What were they doing already?! Out with it!" Soap orders the former Marine sniper impatiently.

Yuna blinks a few times, trying to snap herself out her catatonia. "Kissing." Yuna replies with weak surprise in her voice.

The three men look from Yuna to Cryska a few times in genuine surprise, it was clear they were completely floored by what had actually occurred between the two girls. They were unsure if they really heard that right. There is only one, short unanimous response from the three men of the Task Force. "What?" When they look to Cryska she shoots them a smug, satisfied look.

"Told you I wasn't hurting her." she says in a sing-song voice.

Presently Price's voice rings out. "Oi, Soap! Is everything alright over there, what's going on?"

Soap, looks back over his shoulder at Price and responds with a flummoxed look on his face. "Nothing major, old man... just a bit of a small situation that we're working out."

"Anything serious?"

"Uh... nothing we can't handle sir... I think..."

"Alright, just get it taken care of before the transport aircraft is ready. It'll be prepped any minute now."

"Roger that." Soap looks to Roach and motions with his head over to Yuna. "Roach, go check up on Scope."

"Roger." Roach, releases Cryska's collar and quickly moves to Yuna's side, taking her by the hand and helping her up. "Are you alright, Scope?" he asked with worry in his voice.

"Yeah." Once on her feet Yuna sways a little, trying to keep her footing stable. The fact that Cryska's hands were attempting to fondle her more sensitive body parts left her a bit out of sorts. She takes a moment to straighten herself out and takes a deep breath. "Okay...first time I ever had something like THAT happen to me."

"You were...both of you were actually making out?" Roach asked with nervous hesitation, still loathing to believe it to be true and apparently sounding afraid.

"Well she was the kisser and I... um...was kind of..." She thought for a moment and decided to explain using an analogy. "You know that saying about a deer being caught in the headlights?" Roach nods. "It was... kind of like that.".

Gertrud soon approaches the group while wearing a stern look, hovering forwards with her strikers. She shot the group a sharp glare. "Alright! Your all breaking formation! What in the hell is going on around-" She suddenly stops when she sees Ghost and Soap holding Cryska by either arm and Roach trying to hold a weak kneed Yuna up, all the while Toad had a light blush on his cheeks in embarrassment while Yuri pulled down the hood to his snipers smock to hide his eyes, groaning lightly. It didn't take long for her to put two and two together. "Of course it would be Cryska." she sighs.

Soap turned to Gertrud questioningly. "You mean you know about this woman?" he asks.

Gertrud nods. "Yes. And if what I'm assuming what has happened had in fact happened then now you're aware of the fact she is a hopeless womaniser." Gertrud looks down at her posterior and rubs her buttocks, recalling with some discomfort about her earlier encounter with Cryska. "Believe me; both me and my butt are quite familiar with those grabby hands of hers."

Ghost seemed about to say something but instead stopped, looked at Gertrud, then tilted his head in confusion. "Wait, are you saying she grabbed your arse earlier?" he asked.

Gertrud turned to Ghost, with a flat look and stern eyes. "Please don't make me repeat myself." That was an event she was clearly trying to forget. Having it brought up as a reminder wasn't helping.

Soap looked sternly at the Russian woman and spoke forcefully at her. "Listen here miss, you should bloody well know better than to just molest other women spontaneously and touching them intimately without consent. You have to ask permission to touch your peers before actually touching them, that's a rule in military circles if you have forgotten."

Cryska blinked with a look of genuine surprise. "Really? Why didn't anyone say so!?" She looks to Yuna with a big puppy dog look. "Permission to touch, my love?"

The corner of Yuna's mouth crooked downwards, she shook her head and gestured negative with her hands. "Denied." she responds quickly. That was quite enough touching for her for one day.

Cryska's face droops in disappointment. "Aw... your no fun. Oh well, I don't think I need permission anyways. A girl like you is too pretty NOT to touch."

Yuna exhales with a deep blush and looks to Gertrud with a weak smile. "So I guess we weren't the only ones to be on the receiving end of her antics, huh?"

Gertrud made a vocalized sound of resignation as she nodded. "Apparently there were other victims of her advances as well. Such a lack of self control and discipline."

Ghost then looked to Soap questioningly. "So, what do you want to do sir?"

Soap looked at Cryska sternly. "Well, she did commit sexual assault on our girls. That's enough to get her arse locked up in the stockade, maybe even court marshal ." Cryska turned to Soap with a clear look of alarm on her face. Soap looked to Yuna. "Do you want to press charges Scope?"

Gertrud blinks. "Wait: you actually court martial people for such touching?" All nearby heads snap to Gertrud in surprise, except for Roach and Ghost who just clear their throats and cast their eyes to the ground awkwardly.

Soap peers at Barkhorn in disbelief. "Of course we do: unwanted sexual advances and touching like that is very serious! It is a crime of sorts after all! Why, don't you lot have any laws regarding transgressions like that or what?"

Cryska looks at Gertrud with a happily amazed, wide eyed look. "Now I REALLY want to go to your world Gertrud! Please will you take me?"

Gertrud rolled her eyes and ignored Cryska's comment and responds to Captain McTavish with a rather long explanation. "We do, but amongst witches such examples of physical interaction are considered by most a matter handled with various degrees within a Joint Fighter Wing or respective witch unit, depending on the commander. Some are firmer than others in how such matters are enforced. Some witch commanders believe that it helps moral, encourages unit cohesion and strengthens camaraderie while others believe it inappropriate to act with open affection or to engage in such undisciplined acts. Other's still allow their girls agency to sort such matters out themselves, and it's not terribly uncommon for a commander to sometimes encourage intimacy amongst comrade witches should romantic feelings surface. In the case of my unit, the 501st Joint Fighter Wing, Minna; Our wing commander, did always forbid unnecessary interaction of any sort with male personnel, but with fellow witches I have never seen much objection from her, but I suppose she has reason's for it being so heavily enforced... then again Karlsland military regulations are amongst the strictest in regards to limiting or forbidding romantic interaction between witches and common soldiers wither rank-and-file, NCO or Officer, although in truth it is a blanket prohibition in all nations military's."

"Huh ..." Yuna blinked "That's... huh..." she wasn't able to articulate very much after taking this bit of information in.

Toad had a look beyond utter confusion, he seemed as though his mind was being stirred with a egg beater in his own skull. "Wait, you mean to tell me that stuff like... like THAT are normal occurrences in your worlds military's? If anybody pulls shit like that in our world they'd have their assess hung from a flagpole, locked up in the clink and then drummed out of the service! Why in the hell would they allow you girls to get away with clear sexual harassment?!" Both the rational man of science and the moral Christian in him could both unanimously agree that this little bit of news was both insane and somewhat unbearable.

Gertrud turns to Toad and shoots him an answer sternly. "Because our world needs every witch we can get on the front lines fighting the Neuroi. The enemy can crush conventional forces easily; it is the duties of witches to ensure humanity survives the war we are fighting! We can't afford to court-martial witches for committing what is, in the grand scheme of things, a minor violation at worst. Court-martials that are to be levied against witches are only for the most severe examples of reckless endangerment, extreme and blatant dereliction of duty, treason or other grave military offences, including any count involving murder, wither attempted or actual, of a comrade in arms; wither soldier or witch." Gertrud huffed sternly. "As annoying and to a degree undisciplined as it may be, we cannot afford losing witches that are much better needed on the frontline fighting the enemy just because of grabby hands thanks to their overactive hormones and awakening libidos of young girls..." After a pause she then added. "Although if you tell anyone back home about that part I just said: I'll deny it. I have to try and maintain discipline as a superior officer somehow; and I'll be damned if you go blabbing that little nugget to anybody!"

The Task Force operators looked at Gertrud, not sure wither to be impressed or terrified of the speech she just gave. Cryska looked on in awe at the young witch. She seemed to be liking the sound of this world the more she heard of it.

Toad tries to rebut weakly. "But...well... I mean... that's not normal!" he was trying to grasp at straws, attempting to argue his thoughts and feelings with the Karlslander.

Roach shrugs. "Maybe not for us, but for them? It's as normal as breathing." Toad just hangs his head in response, unable to think of anything to use in his argument.

Gertrud looked to Yuna questioningly. "So what exactly was Cryska doing to you, Sergeant?" she asked. She wanted to be sure what sort of physical interaction was happening to cause all this in the first place.

Before Yuna could reply the Russian sniper responds promptly. "Fucking!" Cryska declares with pride. A sudden wash of annoyance then crosses her. "Or at least we were going to, before we were so rudely interrupted." she amends, much to the chagrin of the guys. Yuna's hand planted itself to her face as she shook her head in embarrassment.

Gertrud's eye's popped out of their sockets as she blushed. "W-w-w-we don't really have anything like...um...n-not often anything quite to that degree!" She says quickly. "U-usually it's just grabbing boobs-Imeanbreasts! Imean..." She vocalises a stifled groan and looks to Cryska with a stern look. "Gott... why do I fear what might happen if you and the Ensign ever met with each other?"

After taking a good long moment to absorb all this baffling information, Soap looks to Ghost, who was looking straight ahead, looking apparently at anything that wasn't the Captain. "Is any of this Intel true, Lieutenant?" Soap asked the balaclava clad man.

After a delayed reaction, Ghost slowly blinked and sighed heavily before turning to Soap, wearing a flat look. "Well there were a couple examples that happened that I can count on both hands and one foot. One such example involved a thirteen year old Ensign groping a Seventeen year old Captain with a bust bigger then... well... most seventeen year olds should normally have to be quite bloody honest. And that was just the first day Roach and I found ourselves in that world." Cryska squealed in excitement at this; the more she heard of these beautiful maidens in Gertrud's world the more she wanted to go to that reality and "have fun" with them.

Soap looked at Ghost with a slack jaw and a cocked eyebrow before shaking his head. "Ach, bloody bollocksen hell!" He turns to Yuna, trying to move on to the task at hand that he had to deal with. "Yuna. As one of your commanding officers I must ask you: do you want to press charges against this woman?" he asked breathlessly, to which Cryska had a very pained look on her face.

Yuna was about to say something when suddenly she stopped for some reason. Her thoughts went back to the look in Cryska's eyes earlier. Something about the way those eyes looked. There had to be a reason for that. Not to mention Cryska managed to effectively pin Yuna; who was once trained as a United States Army Ranger, trained in SOCP and a few other close combat and hand to hand techniques. And this women, who struck her more as a civilian wearing fatigues; was capable of keeping a good hold on her. There was something more about this woman, the woman sniper of the Task Force had a hunch forming in her mind that she just couldn't shake. She turned around to Yuri. "Hey Yuri?"

A so far quiet and reclusive Yuri looked to Yuna questioningly. "Da?"

She gestures to Cryska. "Is she any good?" she asks plainly.

Yuri looked at Cryska a little bit, exhales lightly and looks skyward. "Sergeant; we have many men and a few women in our ranks that have had prior military experience. They had been given the most grueling of training that only the Motherland could provide. All of them are tough and well trained in the field of soldiering and warfare. We even have snipers like you who are able to take the wings off of flies at five hundred yards..." He then he looks back to Cryska, his mouth shifting. "But having said that: my comrades and I have never seen such a hunter as her. She may have been a civilian, but it was clear when we found her that she was a skilled at taking life. In fact ,with the amount of trouble she gave to Ultranationalist squads on her own was enough for her to earn a multi-million ruble bounty on her head, which is why we allowed her to join us after she asked. So yes, she is, how you say: very good. I would almost go as far as to say exceptional... perhaps even on par with your skills."

Toad looked over to Yuri while pointing at Cryska, with wide eyes. "HER?! A multi-million ruble bounty and on par with Yuna?! Your bullshitten!"

"нет. She may seem strange... perhaps she is strange, but her skill: it is unquestionable. Because of that, while she can be handful sometimes, has earned enough trust of those in our unit to march the battlefield with some better comfort. " He casts a glance at Yuna. "But, it's your choice, Sergeant."

Toad looked to Cryska in dumbfounded amazement. "What in the world did you DO exactly?!" he demanded. By this point everyone else had wondered how a person like Cryska would have a multimillion ruble bounty on her head.

Cryska smiled a lopsided grin. "Well if memory serves me, I...well... I managed to kill about a couple hundred Ultranationalist's..." she turns thoughtful for a moment, trying to recall carefully the events surrounding her receiving a bounty. "...or was that a thousand? The explosions make it hard to remember which it is."

At this the members of the Task Force were at a loss...

Yuna looked back at Cryska, who was now looking at the blue haired woman with pleading, puppy dog eyes. She considered carefully Cryska's fate. Normally she would have gave an answer in the affirmative to deal with what was in her world a very serious offense, which it was. Women in military service often had to work in a prominently male dominated environment, and sometimes you had guys who acted more like immature frat-boys or just plain assholes with no self control or respect to their battle-sisters and committed acts that disgraced the uniform. It was uncommon for women in uniform to do such things to other women in military service but it did happen from time to time. However; having heard of how Gertrud's military life worked in terms of this particular subject and how they needed witches with their highly coveted skills in magic and combat and how they couldn't afford losing them to occasional acts of intimate touching without permission, and how Cryska was allegedly on par with the Task Force woman's skills with a rifle, Yuna was now looking at things with a bit of a new paradigm. Not to mention that Cryska seemed... almost like she may have had genuine feelings and just very little impulse control, although she couldn't say that she knew wither she was like this towards everyone. Somehow that made the Russian woman a little tragic in her eyes. A part of her couldn't be sure why, but Yuna was starting to agree with what Gertrud had told them.

She looks up to Soap. "No sir, charges won't be necessary. If she really is a good shot as people in Nickolai's command says she is... then I want to see for myself. Hell maybe she could really help us out in our missions."

Soap blinked. "Are you sure you don't want to press charges?" He asked again, making sure she really wanted to make such a decision. He had to make sure that this is what she really wanted.

"No sir, no charges." She repeated.

Roach blinked. "Are you sure about that?" Yuna nods which elects a confused look on his face. "But... why, exactly?" he asks her.

She shrugged, her mouth shifting a bit. "I dunno to be honest..." but she thinks on it and tries to convey what reasoning was going through her head. "I guess maybe... anyone who can reach out and touch someone from afar is a fellow artisan in sniping. I guess I want to see her practicing the craft, see where her skill level is at."

Soap and Ghost shared a sideways glance, sighed simultaneously, then let Cryska go once it was sure it was what Yuna wanted. Soap then pointed at the Russian and waved his finger at her. "You behave, you understand?"

Cryska smiled warmly. "Da, Captain!" she responds, then casts a warm look of infatuation at Yuna. The Task Force sniper returned a small smile despite the fact she fact she was still flummoxed. Cryska was an enigma, and though she opted to keep the Russian woman around and figure her out, she knew that she was probably going to be on the receiving end of many more molestation attempts to come. She hoped at least this time she would be ready for them.

**Tracking... Sergeant Gary "Roach" Sanderson...**

After everyone got settled down Soap returns to his place in the line while Ghost gives his gear one last check, while the others gave their gear a similar once over. However, there was something that Gary wanted to get off his chest to the woman who just tried to forcibly make her way into his friends pants. He took Cryska to the side for a minute to talk with her. Having been Yuna's friend for many years he was very protective of her, he just didn't want to see her getting hurt somehow. Maybe Cryska didn't have any ill intent, but all the same he wanted to make sure she was kept on a tight leash, keep her from going overboard.

"Look, Cryska, I'm not entirely sure where your coming from, but I just want make sure your aware that touching people without their permission is a practice that could get you in a lot of trouble, especially in military circles. You got very lucky that Yuna decided that she didn't want to press charges against you. Just, be a little more careful and learn a little restraint, okay?"

Cryska seemed to pout a little. "But Yuna is a pretty girl, and I like a pretty girl as exotic as her! A warrior of such beauty like that deserves to feel pleasure befitting her beauty!" she puts in adamantly. "I will win her heart; for she will be my future wife!"

Roach raised both his eyebrows and thumbs the side of his chin a little. She wanted to win Yuna's heart? That was her overall plan? "You want to make Yuna your wife?" he asks slowly. "Okay, let's have a look at that for a moment, if you'll allow me to: how long have you known Yuna for?"

"Seven minutes." Came a quick, matter of fact reply. "But I'm sure I will have the opportunity to know her much better in the future."

"And what did you do to establish a first impression?"

"I felt her hair and then kissed her. I was about to do more but you and your comrades stopped me before we could do anything else."

Roach cleared his throat. "Yeah... the likelihood of getting married to her after pulling that little set of numbers isn't very damn good."

Cryska scoffed. "Oh? And how about you, Tommy? You like Yuna, Da?"

"And that's your business, how?" Roach asks flatly.

"Oh? Are you saying you don't like her?" the purple eyed sniper asks smugly. "No problem for me then, much more chance of me winning her heart!"

Aside from being worried about losing any romantic chance with Yuna, which Roach admitted might have been a little selfish, he was more concerned over Cryska's impulsive irrationality and what kind of damage it could potentially cause . That, he had legitimate fears over. Roach's mouth hooks into an annoyed frown and decides to humor the Russian girl. "Alright, let's say for the sake of argument that I might on some level like her and have feelings like that for her, what are you trying to get at?"

Cryska looks thoughtfully at Roach. "How long have you known the Sergeant for?" she asked him.

"Three or four years." He responds. "Which is certainly better than your seven minutes, I'll tell ya that much. Much longer time for Yuna and I to get to know one another and become friends. Stuff like romance and friendship takes time to develop."

"And have you done anything with her in that time, Tommy?" Cryska asks questioningly. She had a level of subtle smugness when she spoke that particular line, as if she already knew the answer.

Roach seemed to realize what she was implying and his eyes listed to the left a bit and at the ground as he hesitantly gave the answer. "Well...no." Unfortunately too much time training and soldiering severely handicapped his already lacking skills in dealing with members of the fairer sex.

Cryska's face was positively alight. "Well since she has yet to belong to anyone and you haven't made an advance despite knowing her for so long; that means it's open season! Clearly you aren't taking initiative, so I'll take it myself!

Roach's mouth shifts. Ever since he and Scope met, Roach felt as though he had crossed paths with a women you'd only meet with once in a lifetime. For the longest time he wanted to hold on to the friendship he had with her, and after serving together in the field for a couple years he started to feel some small form of infatuation but never really acted on his feelings. But mostly he figured he might be able to work up the courage to start some sort of relationship, but he often didn't apply himself. He wasn't sure why, could it have been fear of messing with a good thing? Or maybe he chose to see if she wanted to take initiative? But now, for the first time, someone else was vying for Yuna, even though the deck was somewhat stacked against her, even with the heavy handicap; a part of Roach's mind feared losing Scope, wither it was to gunfire or to losing her heart to someone else with him without even getting a chance to at least try and see if something would even work. A bonfire was ignited under his butt: he would try step up the relationship with Scope.

_No more procrastinating or holding back . Bout bloody time I start trying to act on my feelings. Especially with miss gropes-a-lot her trying to make a play. You can't stay idle forever old boy... _He thought to himself. "Well, you're going to have a run for your money." He cautions evenly.

Cryska rubbed her chin, then chuckled with a knowing smirk. "Ah, a challenge then? Well the blue haired angel of war may not yet know it, but she will realize that what I said about girls is true. Unless you act quick, you will lose her, Sergeant. Best of luck: I think you'll need it."

With that the sniper skips happily away, leaving Roach alone. While he finally takes in what Cryska said, hoping that her extreme forwardness and poor impulse control might work against her, he realized that despite the fact he had known Yuna for much longer then Cryska; he had no clue how to get a date started with her or anything really about dating or wooing girls. That was something that would serve to be one of his weak points: he had to figure out how to approach Scope and upgrade their relationship from "friends, colleges and squad mates" to "a steady romantic couple."

"Oi, Roach!" Roach looks up to see Captain Price gesturing to the line up of Loyalists. "Get back in line son, the transport aircraft is ready!" the old man ordered.

"Roger that, Captain!" Roach quickly hustles over back at the ranks of men and picks up his gear. Relationship issues involving Yuna had to wait for now. It was time for Gary to get his feet wet.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking...<strong>

**Captain Liam "Hitman" Winters ...**

**JFT2, Ambush Squad...**

**Camp Shelby Hattiesburg, Mississippi...**

The Captain couldn't help but stair into the room from behind the one-way mirror at these young arrivals. For about an hour he and the American's he was in the presence of were beside themselves, looking on with levels of confusion and discomfort at the four girls in the other room. A pair of American Army Privates, one male the other a female, standing guard, making occasional, wary glances at the teenagers. Even with explanation as to these girl's origins, the whole other reality thing, it was still beyond insanely impossible for him to accept. He hummed evenly, looking over at Colonel Hughes, with him, Jay Lambert, Keating and even Agent Jones from the CIA looking on with flummoxed looks

"So... this is really happening then? I...I know that we saw what we saw and how they just...appeared like that, but seriously? Witches? Magic? Aliens? This is beyond our pay grade, I still feel like this some elaborate April fool's joke." Hughes grunted in acknowledgement, scratching his chin thoughtfully as they were trying to pick through the whole word of mouth they were given.

Sergeant Lambert J shrugged. "Well I can confirm it sir. They are the real deal."

Agent Jones shook his head, scoffed, drank from his cup of coffee and then spoke. "Yeah, and if these girls are witches then I'm the fucking tooth fairy. It's a bullshit story." he put in.

Jay looked over with contempt at the CIA agent. "Oh yeah, because you were really on the ball with what happened to Hunter-2-1 Actual and how both the Rangers and Reservists were in on some sort of desertion plot, because that makes way more fucking sense." he spoke with clear and obvious sarcasm.

The agent looked over at the Sergeant and glared daggers at him. "What the hell did you just say Sergeant? Do you know just how large a pay check I have over you, ya pencil necked boot?!"

Jay eyed the agent challengingly. "Do I look like I give any fucks about your damn paycheck you fucking spook?" He then cast a flat look at the girls in the other room. "Besides, I'd rather be a pencil necked boot then having my head jammed so far up my ass that I can't see passed my own shit. I was there to see for myself all this stuff that you were and are ignoring and lo and behold I was telling the truth; you want to go oh for two and you bet some money on it then it'll be a bet I'll win. I tried being mister nice guy, try and help you out, and at least both the Colonel and Keating were reasonable. You? All you are is a tight assed douchbag without any fucking clue and who needs to get a mail-order blowjob." One thing that was apparent to the Captain was that the Sergeant clearly held a large amount of contempt towards the CIA agent. Then again that wasn't entirely uncommon; Hitman also didn't really care too much for guys like the CIA or any sort of desk jokey agents who couldn't navigate their way around a stack of papers. Civilian intelligence agencies ironically enough were lacking in the one thing they were supposedly good at; intelligence.

Jones glared at the Sergeant and gritted his teeth. "You insubordinate little-"

"Gentlemen!" Hughes looked to both men sternly. "If your done shit slinging we have to get back to the task at hand." Both men fell silent as the Colonel turned back thoughtfully to the alleged witches.

Keating looked though a clipboard filled some of the information that they were given. After she was finished looking through the data she held the clipboard over her chest and sighed. "These girls are child soldiers sir. Psyche evaluations show classic psychological make ups comparable to other such cases, and judging from what they told us they have been trained and thrown into combat for a long time. And that theirs others like them." She shook her head. "I can't imagine what these girls have been put though."

Hitman exhaled, understanding that feeling all too well. "Hell, they remind my kids back home. They have no damned business being on battlefields. Who the hells responsible for sending these kids off to fight; I'd kick his ass if I ever get my hands on him."

Jones's mouth shifted. "It could be some sort of Russian trick." he cautioned.

Lambert peered at the agent in disbelief. "HOW?! They aren't even from the same reality!"

The agent points to the small girl, Sanya Litvak, sitting at the corner of the table alongside the long haired platinum blond, Elia. "That one's a Russian. Could be some sort of new fangled program involving children bring implanted into our territory; secret agents or a mole or something."

"She's a fifteen year old kid you idiot! Seriously, that lump in your throat has got to be your fucking nose." Jay retorts.

Hitman nods. "That and these girls are carrying outdated weapons and wearing vintage uniforms. Hell we have what looks to me a German girl, a Japanese girl, and a Finish girl. And the Russian girl sure as hell strikes me as a kid still enrolled in school if anything. Seems damn unlikely the Russians would even consider doing what your suggesting." His eyes turned to the agent. "And on top of that...they don't have that look."

The agent blinks. "Look?"

"The look you get from taking a human life over time: They don't have it. Even if they are from another reality as both they and the Sergeant claim, it's a reality where our countries aren't fighting each other. Hell they are from four different nations, going on their..." He took a pause as he turned back to the girls and rolled his eyes. "...uniforms alone and their nationality. So that leaves us with what I'm... trying to come to terms with: that they are fighting aliens."

Hughes looks to the INSCOM officer. "What do you think Keating?" he asked her.

"Sir, two of these girls are underage minors, likely being forced into service into being combatants, with the other two, older girls likely to have been fighting since early puberty, if not longer. Articles regarding rights of the child are clear. It appears we have a war crime and basic human rights violations happening in this world." This was still a very jarring little number for them to take in. Kids this young or even younger being used as soldiers? It was in all honesty disturbing, fearing just what sort of horrors and abuse the girls may have gone through.

The most confusing thing however, was that upon hearing of the history of this alleged other world, they found particular deviations and divergences from their worlds history; Julius Caesar surviving his assassination being one such difference. And on top of that that the 1940's was a time when humanity was not a war with the greatest dictator known in all of human history, but an ancient, alien race that vied for Earth for unknown reasons, motivation and the only intent is a mostly hostile one, save for perhaps one attempt to their knowledge which fell though.

"If they are being forced into service then we should try and provide them with sanctuary. If we can we can help them somehow then we should." Hughes looks to Keating and motions to the witches. "Lieutenant Colonel, go talk to them; ask them what the conditions of their service are like, what sort of abuse if any they have suffered, and let them know they don't have to fight anymore.

"Yes sir, right away." With that Keating walked out the door into the hall and proceeded into the adjacent room, while Jones muttered something under his breath. The men continued to observe as Keating took a seat and proceeded to explain things as calmly as possible, trying to speak to them like you would to a confused youth. Save for perhaps Jones and his paranoid opinions, the other men saw these young girls as almost exactly that; young girls. The only ones who were of military age were Minna Wilcke and Mio Sakamoto, both of whom were child soldiers at young ages: the best they could do for them was let them know they could choose to leave service if they so wanted. Eila Juutilainen and Sanya Litvyak meanwhile were minors below the ages required for military service.

The men and Keating were under obligation to ensure these girls wouldn't have to stay in military service. The use of child soldiers was purely and simply a crime, and the fact that they even exist in their world could be seen as humanities greatest of great failures. However, upon Keating asking them if there were any sorts of abuse or exploitation, the girls were in earnest confusion.

At the line of questioning about this Minna blinked. "Lieutenant Colonel, I think there is some misunderstanding, between us. I know that the men who came to our world explained some of the things that happen here, but I would like to make the record clear that are not forced conscripts and that were are treated fairly in our nation's military's." Minna explains. "At least, no worse than most units deal with in terms of battle and chain of command." She added; remembering such events as Maloney and Krupky's attempts to dismantle witch Joint fighter Wings.

"So their... hasn't been any cases of... sexual exploitation?" Keating asks with great hesitation, wanting to make positively sure.

The eyes of the witches went wide in shock. Sakamoto bolted out of her seat as she confronted the Lt. Colonel, doing this however caused the two sentries to flinch and half ready their weapons to be trained on her . "What are you implying?!" She demanded angrily. "To even suggest that soldiers of the Fuso empire would even treat a witch in such a way is an insult! And even if such a deplorable disgrace to the uniform even did try, he would be handed down a penalty befitting such a wretched worm of a bastard!"

Eila noticed the movement of the soldiers behind them and tried to calm Mio down. "M-major, you might want to not blow your top or these guys will blow it off for you!" she warned in a panic.

Keating waved off the sentries and they both stood down with only a little hesitation, then she explained. "I'm sorry, but I'm not meaning to insult you or your countries, just to ask so it can be clear that you haven't gone though anything like that. You must understand: in our world when adhoc insurgent armies and third world militias take and use children as conscripts they are often treated very poorly; they are kept in abysmal living conditions, given the worst of dangerous jobs, used as cannon fodder and especially the case of girls; used as sex slaves."

At this the girls seemed to turn quite pale. Things like this were unthinkable to them, and to hear that such evils happened sickened them deeply. This world they were in still seemed a very dark place, even despite some of the things the five men from this world had explained to them, both the good and the bad.

Sakamoto returned to her seat with a grim look on her face. "I see." the warrior of Fuso spoke at last, but her voice was a dark as midnight. Behind her stoic face was a rage that could be seen blazing in her eye that would rival an Australian Bushfire.

Sanya spoke with a timid voice. "That's terrible..." she whimpered.

Eila clenched her fists in outrage at hearing Keating's explanation, the thought of someone doing such a thing to Sanya was something she would not dare allow. "I wouldn't let ANYBODY do such terrible things to Sanya like that, I'd stop them even if I had to beat them within an inch of their lives!" Minna meanwhile was silent, though a protective look was shining in her eyes, conveying clearly her feelings.

Keating then explained what the intentions of both her and the others were in earnest as the men behind the one way mirror continued to observe, although Hitman's breath was nearly stolen from him when Sakamoto shot out of her chair like that and when the sentries reacted to her sudden outburst. That was way too close for comfort.

At the explanation for the whole line of questioning Minna's face grew somewhat stern. "Lieutenant Colonel, while I understand you are coming from a place of good intentions, they are unfounded. You must understand: witches are essential in humanities fight against the Neuroi in our world. Without us humanity would have been destroyed eons ago and we wouldn't be having this very conversation right now. Yes, many of the girls under my command and by extension the commanders of every other joint fighter wing by all accounts are in fact very young. But it is because we are witches with our magic serving as both shield and sword for our fellow man and because our power weakens as we get older that it is both a duty and obligation to do our part to ensure humanity survives the Neuroi's onslaught of Earth, even though we seem in your eyes to be mere children. And to be clear, we take up this duty and obligation out of our own free will. We want to fight. We want to protect our friends, our families, our countrymen our squad mates... all those who are precious and important to us, and to strangers who look to us to save them. That is why witches are born and why we serve on the front lines."

Jones scoffed at this. "Heh, magic." He scoffed, Minna's little speech lost on him. "That's a good one."

Jay turned to the agent. "You don't believe it?" he asked flatly. Unlike with the Agent, Minna's words touched Jay, despite the reservations of the fact that these girls were so young. They had a lot of guts to willingly enlist or volunteer for combat. There were few grown adults who could handle military life, but these girls had seemed to take to it easily, judging from what they told them.

"Nope." came the agents matter of fact response.

Hitman was more on the fence on the subject, his earlier skepticism replaced with cautious curiosity. "Maybe they can give us a demo of this... magic..." Both the agent and the young Sergeant looked to the Captain questioningly, at which he explained. "Well, if they are from another reality as they say... then I'm guessing they and their reality abide by a few different laws of physics then ours does."

Hughes considered this for moment, then retrieved the walkie talkie what was kept on by his hip, on his belt, then spoke into it to Keating. "Could you ask them for a demonstration of their magic, Lt Colonel?"

Keating heard the message, the subtle nod she gave and her hand pressing to her ear peace being the clue to indicating she received his orders. she then speaks to the girls."If I may, can I see a demonstration of your magic abilities?"

The four girls exchanged glances between each other, as if asking their fellow witches in words unspoken wither they should. At last Minna silently nods to her girls, then looks back to Keating. "Very well. We will do our best to demonstrate our powers to you. As the commanding officer I'll be the first to demonstrate." Minna closed her eyes and began trying call upon her magical abilities. As she was focusing however it was apparent that she found that it was very difficult to call upon her magic. Back in her world her powers were reportedly easy enough to be called upon on what would be almost a whim, save for the smallest focus. But they could tell she found upon coming to this world she was straining to even call upon what she and the other girls called a familiar. After a few moments pass she explains as she tries to bring forth her magic. "Forgive me: usually this is easier to do back in our world... it's not quite as easy in this reality. It might take more effort than normal in your reality."

The agent scoffed again and shook his head, clearly not buying the whole magic thing. Hitman meanwhile kept watching silently with the other two men behind the glass. He wasn't sure why. It seemed like it was important he keeps his eyes squarely on this red-headed German girl, something telling him right in the pit of his stomach that this was going to be important.

Minna's closed eyes tense a little, then her head tilts a little as if straining to hear something. After another few minutes of seemingly nothing, Minna takes a long, deep breath and then exhales. "Krawatte..." At the utterance of the word a pair of wolf ears appears on her head and a wolfs tail just where the base of her tail bone would be, followed up by a woefully weak, dull glow. At this Keating flinched and pulled back in her chair, and the two sentries in the room had a similar reaction of surprise, in addition to a string of curse words.

At this Agent Jones, Colonel Hughes and Hitman stared in wide eyed surprise. Sergeant Jay Lambert meanwhile had a mild look of passive satisfaction, remembering the fact that he had seen this young commanders animal ears and tail before. He still found it weird, but at least he was prepared for it.

Hitman turned to the other men. "Did you see that?" he asked calmly, only a trace hint of surprise in his voice.

"I did." came the Colonel's response. Jones said nothing; he just took a long chug of his coffee while Jay's mouth shifted a little.

"Told ya." Jay states simply.

After another few seconds pass Minna speaks slowly. "Aside from the three people in this room; one male: two female... theirs four men in the adjacent room behind you..." After a stunned silence by the people she had mentioned she continues. "In addition...there are four soldiers passing us in the hallway... headed in the direction of the men in the adjacent room, behind you... as well as a room behind us filled with about seven base personnel... and about fifteen other various personnel, attending to their duties currently in this wing of the building and another thirty inside the main headquarters...strange...that's currently the extent of my magic at this time...normally I can detect individual units at over twenty miles or more..." With her familiar retreating and the dull glow subsiding she looked to Keating patiently. "Is that a satisfactory demonstration?" she asked.

Jones looked out the window of the room he and the other men were in only to see the four soldiers Minna was talking about pass by the window. The agent dropped his coffee mug which promptly broke upon hitting the floor. Minna shouldn't have been able to know there were four soldiers passing by that room and in which direction. The room she and the other girls were in had no windows save for one in the door, which also had a shutter that could only be opened from the outside of the room, and currently it was closed. Hitman and Hughes exchanged tense looks between each other. This was also pretty damn spooky to them, Hughes absently confirmed that little number with the four men passing in the hall.

Keating managed to compose herself enough to speak to the Wing Commander, looking first to the one way mirror and back to the young red head. "How exactly were you able to know all that?" she asked shakily.

"It's an inherent magical ability called "Three Dimensional Space Understanding". It's a spell classified in the perception-lineage and allows me to perceive and discern all nearby targets in every direction, sort out their position, number and classification. Because of this skill it also allows me to notice details about others and also to ensure that unit cohesion in the 501st is maintained... but normally I'd receive greater detail and be able to detect other people and units in a much larger area."

"I see. I was curious about that word you spoke earlier? Krawatte? Was it a spell, or...?"

"Krawatte is the name of the wolf familiar I am bound to. An animal spirit. I was trying to re-establish my connection him, something about this reality is making it difficult for me to do that; I must call upon my familiar so I can use my magic and in turn for my familiar to connect with me and grant me ease of access to use my powers." Noticing Keating's confusion she explains. "Each witch has a familiar that helps serve as a means to bridge a witch to the powers provided to us from the raw either that saturates our world, and, again, in turn use our magical abilities. The familiar helps us easily establish a connection to the spiritual world and the powers of the either provided to us."

"You can communicate with your... animal spirit? Your... familiar?"

"Not in the normal sense of the word. Not every witch can speak with ease to their familiar like you and I are right now, at least not while they manifest only as the ears and tails that appear upon our bodies. A familiar only allows itself to be seen by others only when it wants to which isn't very often, if in fact ever, or under request by its witch; otherwise they only manifest as the ears and tail that you saw on myself. In addition, I've been only able to call upon Krawatte like that thanks to time, experience, training and some measure of patience. Also, very few familiars are known to speak back to their witches."

"Okay then... what of the rest of your squad mates abilities?" At this Minna gave the other girls permission to attempt to show their powers. Unfortunately, it was proving to be a chore for them and each of them showed even greater struggling then Minna did after a good half hour of straining; after a very slow start Eila's attempts at a reading were more general, vague and less helpful than normal, the only thing she was able to predict with any measure of accuracy was that PFC Kones was going to suffer pain from his peptic-ulcer in two minutes, which did eventually happen, mostly caused from stress on his already bothered stomach end even then the prediction was off by an extra two minutes and thirty-five seconds. Sanya's magic needles were almost unnoticeable and was only able to pick up barely audible static from radio transmissions half the distance she is normally able to receive. Mio had it the worst; her Magan's normal bright purple magical glow was like that of a light bulb that sat on the precipice of dying, and to her great disappointment and anxiety Reppumeru's glow was completely gone. Fortunately Minna was able to console her, telling her it was probably due to the laws of this reality they were in. What little magic ability they could muster if at all was shamefully feeble.

Despite the witches critically weakened magical prowess it was enough regardless to shock the men and Keating into belief. Hitman and the others were now firmly standing in the twilight zone, no amount of denial would be able to refute what's in front of them. There were still questions, sure. But there was no question at all that what these young witches have told them was true.

When Keating was finished with her last question, Hughes decided the to enter the room with Hitman requesting to join him and being allowed to do so. Upon entering, with Hitman standing off to the side, Hughes took a seat next to Keating and spoke to Minna, giving a brief salutation before addressing her. "Wing Commander, I want to thank you for co-operating with us. I realize that we may have been intrusive to a degree but with the nature of our world compounded by the fact you and many of your fellow witches are minors that we must ensure precautions are taken and protocol is followed. I hope we haven't been too big an inconvenience."

"I understand sir. I'm just glad we were able to help shed some light for you."

Hughes nodded and proceeded with the whole point of him coming into the room in the first place. "So what can we help you with, Wing Commander?"

Minna's eyes lit up at that question, but her face remained professional. "We need your help in finding one of our squad mates." She took out a faded photograph from her tunic, showing her standing alongside two other girls while the three of them wore German winter uniforms during a snowy day. She pointed to the one girl with the light grey-green winter coat , cap and pigtails, an MG42 at rest on her right shoulder. "This is our missing witch: Captain Gertrud Barkhorn. She has been missing for over a month and unfortunately due to constant Neuroi Raids and assaults in addition to a lack of clearance until now we haven't been able to launch a search and rescue operation."

"So she's gone AWOL?" Hitman asked.

Minna shook her head. "MIA actually, and not entirely by choice. There was a very complicated series of events that led up to it, but in essence she was helping both your men and two Special Operations soldiers return to this reality when Neuroi assaulted the portal they were trying to get to. After your men and the operators got separated, Captain Barkhon helped to provide air cover, unfortunately she wound up getting transported to this world along with the two members of Task Force 141."

There was a long moment of silence as the Colonel and Keating exchanged worrying looks with each other. Hughes leaned forward. "I'm sorry, did you say Task Force 141?"

Minna nods. "Yes sir."

Hughes drew a heavy sigh. "Mamm, I'm sorry to tell you this, but Task Force 141 is as of a month ago a disavowed military unit and its members considered terrorists to be killed or captured."

"WHAT!?" Mio demanded angrily. "You're telling me that the Captain is in the company of wanted criminals!?"

"It seems that way." Hughes responds.

"But...they didn't seem like bad people..." Sanya protests weakly, still unsure if she could believe this. Eila had a flustered look, with a clear look of unease on her face.

Minna spoke with urgency. "Colonel, please tell me what crime these people have committed to have themselves branded as a rouge unit?"

Hughes explains. "They are wanted for the murder of war hero General Sheppard and reportedly collaborating with a known terrorist, although Intel from members of Hunter-2-1 claim that the unit was betrayed by the General after an alleged act of treason. That's still being investigated."

At hearing the explanation realization seems to hit Minna as she responds, remembering a past conversation she had with the two operators. "Forgive me sir, but that seems to me as both confusing and unlikely: the two members of the Task Force that were in our care explained that their mission was to eliminate a terrorist named Makarov and were conducting a mission in the Cuscus Mountains to do just that when the General betrayed them. They showed clear hatred towards both men when they told us this information."

"Is there any proof that can be given that can confirm this?" he asked.

Minna sighed. "No sir. I'm afraid not." she admits.

Hughes exhales, then asks a question of the Karlslander. "This girl, Captain Barkhorn: did she join these two men willingly?"

Minna breaths evenly. "It's uncertain, there were reports that she was under duress, although one of my girls reports that she was complying willingly in order to protect them from a... rather unpleasant VIP who sought to take them and your own men prisoner. Regardless of the circumstances, it is utmost importance for us to find the Captain. We require help from you to help find our missing friend; you're the only ones we know that can even be of remote help in finding her."

Hitman turns to the Colonel with a look of resolve. He was sadly no stranger to losing good men and women under his command, so he knew where Minna Wilcke was coming from. If it were one of his soldiers MIA he would do anything, even if it meant moving heaven and Earth to get them back home. After hearing the whole situation he felt compelled to do what he believed to be right. "Sir, my men and I can try and track down the Captain and bring her back home to her unit. We can trace whatever Intel we need to and once we get something solid we can leave within the hour. Just say the word for my men and I to do, and we will do."

Hughes spoke evenly. "That's commendable Captain, but unfortunately we flew you and your unit into the country for a mission that takes priority. If those aliens are as bad as the boys of Hunter-2-1 and these young ladies made them out to be then it is within our best interest to hunt em down and wipe em out. And seeing as our forces are tied up with the Russians, we will need your expertise in hunting down these extraterrestrials." Noticing the disheartened looks on the witches at saying that he speaks apologetically to them. "In regards to your predicament I wish I could help you in finding your missing girl, but the problem is that the 141 has been off the grid for a little over a month since they were disavowed. We are having a hard enough time trying to track them down and ensure they are either brought in or brought down; they are top tier operators with underground contacts. We're running around the clock trying to find them, and so far the nearest thing we got trying to track them is something about a some sort of possible activity in Parrots Beak, Guinea but the trail runs cold after that. Not to mention most of our intelligence resources have been diverted to deal with the Russian counter offensive; we have only a skeleton crew working on tracking the Task Force."

Eila spoke with a pleading voice. "But we can't just give up! We have to try and find her! I know that you have your own war to fight, but you just have to help us!"

Minna's eyes looked upon Hughes with a desperate, pleading look, the thought of being unable to find Gertrud after all this time and effort was more then she and the others could bear. "Colonel... please..."

Hughes wore a guilty look. "The best I can offer is that we can put a BOLO out for her. Capture orders only: that way if anyone on our side finds her upon getting a bead on em and converge on the Task Force they can make sure she is brought back alive and we can send her your way. I'm sorry, at the moment that's the best I can do right now." The witches moral sunk like a brick being cast into the ocean. Crestfallen they sat in their chairs as the grim reality set in, what little hope they had dashed. They weren't any closer to finding their squad mate... their friend. Hughes slowly got up from his chair. "For the moment, as far I can see at any rate, you four are guests on our base so we will extend every courtesy. If you need anything we will ensure that your made comfortable." He looked over to the Captain. "Hitman, I'll need you and your team members to gather up in the briefing room. You'll get your orders there, understood?"

Hitman looked to the four gloomy looking girls for what seemed like a while, before he finally sighs. "Understood. I'll gather my people up and have them meet ASAP." One thing that Hitman never did like is seeing long, sad faces on kids, being a loving, if awkward father. Seeing the witches so heartbroken made the JTF2 Team Leader's heart weigh heavy in his chest. Unfortunately, he had orders: soldiers followed orders. And good officers had to know how to both give and take those orders. Even though this time he didn't like them, for more reasons than one. But he and his men were flown into the States for a specific mission in mind. And it involved the most deadly and daunting enemy he and his men would have to face in their entire lives in military service.

Loud squawking suddenly came from Hughe's radio, he retrieved it and placed it to his head. "Yes, what is it?" More loud garbling came over the radio, the Colonels face quickly turned pale. "W-what? S-say again?" Another response came, more long winded then the last. "Roger that, do what you can." The Colonel looked to Hitman with a grim look. "Captain, you'll need to get briefed on the move... things have gotten ugly for us..."

* * *

><p><strong>Hunter-2-1 75th Ranger Regiment<strong>

**Tracking... Sergeant Foley...**

**Location... New York... **

The sounds of terrified, panicked screams, gunfire, cannon reports, laser fire, alien screeches and every curse word known to man filled the air. Radio traffic was filled with a cacophony of indiscernible shouting and panicked voices, any attempts at giving coherent orders was drowned out by the background noise. Foley, his men and their comrades in uniform were fleeing for their lives from an entire column of Neuroi that both the Sergeant and Corporal had learned were called "Turtles" thanks to the witches.

The clanking of metal limbs impacting the ground was a frightening sound for their fellow service men to hear, though the scariest thing of all was the lasers. It was a scene out of a nightmarish science fiction movie. There were squads that were trying to hold their ground or otherwise engaging in frontal assaults but as Foley and Dunn had witnessed and could attest these tactics were proving to cause them more casualties then they could inflict.

The pair knew that taking Neuroi head on in a fight would get them killed and fast. There was only two things you could do: Ambush the enemy or run like hell. For now, Foley opted for the latter. Even with just seven minutes of the Neuroi arriving, they had completely wiped out nine whole platoons, two motorized columns, twelve tanks and six flights of aircraft. And apparently it seemed like the Neuroi were not even trying to linger on the battlefield; judging from their movement they seemed to be red lining their forces to some unknown rally point across the Russian, American front line.

One of the Ranger's screamed hoarsely while they were on the run. "Jesus Christ what the fuck are these things?!"

"Who fucking cares what they are! How the hell can we kill them!?" A Marine shot back.

"Oh god were going to die, man. Game over!" another soldier sobbed.

Foley tried to give the men orders as a laser from the Neuroi pursuing them swiped its way into a nearby building. "Everyone keep calm! Don't stop running and do not engage them head on: we are severely out gunned by these guys!"

Dunn also put in his own piece of helpful advise. "We'll need the big guns if we want a chance to even try killing these guys. Their armor is thick as hell and they can regenerate! Our rifles and MG's won't do much of anything against a city bus sized metal bastard!" he shouted.

"You know what these things are?!" Tanner Demands. The 1st Sergeant, along with his men were clearly hitting new levels of stress. This was the first time that anyone in their would have to fight Neuroi, not including the two rangers: Foley and Dunn,Thier currently MIA Private; James Ramirez and of course Roach and Ghost. With everyone else having no knowledge as to how to combat this new enemy it was proving to be a massive bloodbath.

"They're called Neuroi: tough and powerful sons-of-bitches!" Foley replied. So far as the Sergeant knew he, Dunn, and now by extension their fellow Ranger's in their unit as well as the adjoining Marines at their side knew what they were fighting now. Everyone else was rolling the dice in battle and letting them land where they may against an unknown enemy. "Only way to kill them is by destroying their Core: think of it as a weak point to hit!"

"Oh, we are so fucked dude!" One Ranger blurts out. Clearly he and every other solider on the battlefield was freaking out epically. The only ones who weren't were Dunn and Foley. They both seemed more annoyed if anything, mild panic may have been underneath that annoyance, but it was still being over shadowed.

A pair of A-10 Warthogs was approaching from the east, the direction the force of Rangers and Marines were headed. As they passed the troops overhead the two ground attack aircraft strafed the Neuroi with their GAU-8's and a couple well placed missiles. Most of the Turtles were staggered from the Gau-8's, only four of the walkers got killed this way, but the four missiles that were fired had a good effect on target; three of the four targeted Neuroi were destroyed and the other was damaged, it's left side obliterated. The alien started to repair its damage steadily, while its allies pressed forward, trying to blaze a path for Neuroi units that were behind them.

Unfortunately for the A-10's for buying the men on the ground a brief moment of respite, a wing of six Neuroi aircraft approached and shot both aircraft down for their troubles. Both pilots were vaporized along with their aircraft, the only remains were the tips of both crafts wings that began tumbling to the ground bellow. There was another string of curses as the Neuroi overhead kept flying, banking around and headed out towards the harbor. Half the Turtles split off from the column and down side streets for reasons known only to the alien machines.

As the American troops continued to run and upon reaching an intersection they suddenly froze. A Russian Unit of around twenty men had also entered an intersection a block down. Both American and Russian men took notice of each other. They stared at each other for a moment as if briefly stunned by the fact they were in each other's presence. One man on the American's side shouted in anger. A Russian man mirrored him. Foley was about to give an order to hold fire but gunfire from both sides already erupts, five men on either side getting killed by small arms fire.

This doesn't last long however, as another laser from a passing Neuroi aircraft disrupts the engagement of the humans below, cutting down a swath men on both sides. Foley barked an order loudly at his men. "FORGET THE RUSSIANS! WE NEED TO MAKE SURE WE SURVIVE: MOVE YOUR GOD-DAMNED-ASSES BEFORE THEY GET ATOMIZED! GO! GO! GO!" It looked like, for the time being, that settling old scores, grudges and feuds with their fellow man would have to wait. The Russian officer on the enemy side apparently had the same thoughts, ordering his men to break engagement with their old enemy and retreat.

Apparently the possibility of getting zapped by alien lasers proved to be highly motivating factor to making his unit comply with his orders, and so they all ran. Foley knew he needed Anti-tank weaponry, armor, and air support and needed to use it conservatively if they even had a stone's throw of a chance of taking on Neuroi. Knowing both the brass and everyone else currently on the field they were trying to hit the Neuroi with numbers and full frontal assaults, but as the shouts and screams over the radio were demonstrating that this was proving to be a costly plan. And what few forces that weren't taking Neuroi head on were either in full retreat or hiding as best they could. Foley noticed a parking garage and ordered them to take cover and go silent. Foley knew he and his men were ill equipped to take on the Alien forces at this time. To try to fight would have been nothing short of suicide. The mission right now was to survive, and to try and get word out how to defeat the Neuroi before their forces in New York were wiped out.

For now that was their only mission...

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Yuri...<strong>

**Task Force 141- Disavowed...**

**Location... Sierra Leone, Africa...**

**Status... conducting mission to find precious cargo...**

Africa: a continent of vast plains, humid jungle and exotic wildlife. And depending where you were; a proverbial no-man's land. To most NATO forces, an assignment to most regions in Africa was as bad as serving a tour in Afghanistan. Both these locations in the world often prove to be the most taxing and stressful to a soldier, but for different reasons. In the Stan you had to worry about Middle eastern extremists with AK's, RPG's and a century's worth of passed down rage and dogma from the previous generation declaring holy war after holy war, trying to convert, punish and silence anyone or anything that was different or against their beliefs.

Here in Africa it was warlords and their militias cutting paths of bloodshed and barbarity for the sake of power and control. In Africa the strong survive while the weak are often frightened into obedience, forced to bend to the will of power mad men with ambition who vied for their own interests and caring only for what satisfied them. Those who did not obey were bullied, beaten, tortured, maimed or killed. Although mostly that could happen to you anyway regardless of wither you complied or not.

Like the case of the Lion and the Gazelle, it was a matter of sorting out who was hunter and who was prey. When it came to the human animal this was no different: Hunter? Or Prey? People fell under these two categories, it was a matter of figuring out who was what.

To Yuri and his thoughts on where he and his comrades stood as he and the other operators eased slowly up from beneath the surface of the river's trickling waters, the answer was obvious...

Price spoke as he stood fully erect in the river. "Nikolai, we're just outside the village."

"Copy. I'll pick you up in one hour."

Price then sent a message over to Barkhorn, who was at this time airborne. "Valkyrie, what's your status?"

"Currently flying at high altitude in the clouds just east of you. Do you want me to lower altitude to operational ceiling?"

"Very well, just make sure you don't get too low, don't want you getting spotted, you copy?"

"Roger. If you need me I'll be close by."

Roach exhaled as he tried to squeeze his balaclava dry while it rested over his head. "Well, this takes me back." He turns to Ghost, pulling back the charging handle of his M4A1. "How about you?"

"Sure does mate, reminds me a bit of that time back in Chiapas." the Lieutenant mused, keeping to his ACR again for this Mission.

Scope kept her Mark12 SPR aimed straight ahead at where she was looking at, smirking as water rushed off her helmet, uniform and weapon. "Feet wet, right?"

Roach scoffed lightly. "You know it." He then noticed a familiar white haired sniper ease forward through the water, SVU in hand, as well. Yuri pulled back the charging handle of his MK14. The Russian man sent a blunt, neutral look to the British operator, then looked to the right flank, off into the thicket that flanked the river.

Cryska meanwhile was the only one who kept silent. Yuri and the others were quick to notice that when they were back at Nikolai's safe house and during embarkation that Russian woman was bubbly and full of energy, almost like a hyper, sex crazed schoolgirl, as Yuna would attest. However, the closer they got to their mission objective; the closer the time came for the Task Force to perform a HALO jump from the transport while the rest of Nikolai's men prepped for further orders at the African safe house that her personality undergone a steady shift. She became more and more subdued and stoic, the light in her eyes replaced with a cold look in them. The Task Force wasn't sure just what was up with that. Yuna tried to get a read on Cryska but found she was unable to figure her out as of yet. Yuri however had gotten used to this the more he worked with the Russian woman.

Price voiced before the drop in that he was sure there was a story behind the Russian sniper, but what that story entailed would have to wait for now. The older Captain motioned forwards. "The factory isn't far from here. Makarov's cargo should be there. Keep it silent. Let's move."

"Maintain a low profile." Soap cautioned. "The militia's all over this area."

Toad nods, his M4A1 fully locked and load. "Roger that Captain."

"Soap, try not to die this time." Price ribbed gently to the younger Captain.

The younger Captain scoffed. "You worry about yourself, old man."

The Task Force soldiers make their way up the stream, wading through the water to their objective. Yuri had misgivings about some of their missions. Dealing with Makarov would not be easy; remembering the Russian terrorists assault on the safe house back in India. He had to admit that getting bombed by a UAV wasn't in any way shape or form a good time. Although it would be safe to assume that no one would really call that a good time either. But so long as Makrov was hunted down and eliminated, the ex-spetsnaz man would endure.

Presently as he continued to move through the water he overheard Yuna and Roach speaking quietly amongst themselves. Though in ear shot he tried to avoid listening in too hard, but he managed to hear an exchange between the two operators.

"...well, I was just thinking, after this mission is over... urm... I dunno really. You like movies, right?" Roach asks awkwardly.

"Well, yeah, I don't mind a good flick. But why are you brining this up now?" Yuna responds with a questioning tone.

"Well... that is to say... I was just thinking we could hang out, kick back, have something resembling R&R. Maybe even food or something."

"I don't think now's exactly the best time to talk about this Roach." Yuna points out flatly.

"I know, you're totally right about that. We can plan later or something. Later is good." Price looked back and hushed both Sergeants sternly into silence. Cryska seemed to hover close to Yuna, which the blue haired girl was quick to notice, but didn't comment on it. After several minutes of wading through water they squad happens upon a small, rickety bridge with a road resting on either end of it. The sound of an engine approaching is not without notice to the Task Force.

"Vehicles approaching." Soap warns urgently.

Price quickly barked an order to the squad. "Get down!" he hissed.

Everyone quickly got to cover of the tall grass and bulrushes as the vehicle's began to approach the bridge. The trucks stop and let one man off, apparently a man serving as a foot patrol of the area. The man says something to his compatriots and begins his patrol, the vehicles driving off across the bridge for reasons unknown but as of now was of little relevance. Yuri's breath catches in his throat as the man seems to peer in Soap's direction and approaches, almost as though the young Captain was spotted by the African man. Soap however anticipated the approaching man's body language; as the foot mobile reached the edge of the bank the Captain's combat knife found its way into the man's neck, and with a yank of the man's shirt Soap pitched the lifeless body into the river. A perfectly executed knife takedown.

Price nodded approvingly and turned to the rest of the squad. "Move."

Moving up the bank and down the road the squad moved as silently as possible, moving through thickets in order to avoid detection. The flies were murder on the squad as they moved through the tall grass, Toad slapped one off his cheek, cursing quietly and wishing he packed some "bug juice" for this mission to keep from being eaten alive by the local insects. They didn't march for very long until they came across a small, rundown shed.

"Two x-rays, eleven o'clock." Soap noted that they had company.

In front of the door to the shed were a pair of militia soldiers who were busy at work moving bodies from one side of clearing to the other; many of the slain were men, women and even children. Villagers who didn't heed the wants of the militia.

Muted grunts of frustration and anger escaped the throats of the Task Force. Yuri exhaled sharply out his nose while seething in rage at an old memory that was triggered by the terrible sight before him. As his eyes traveled to Yuna he could see that while her face was passive that her jaw clenched and unclenched repeatedly; it was ventured that she was trying to maintain control of her focus and emotions. She was succeeding but it was clear that she was ired by what she saw. Cryska meanwhile wore a colder look on her face the normal and her mouth pulled into a scowl. This was a transgression most severe, one that would be avenged by the weapons and wills of the Task Force.

Price gave the order to allow his men to do just that. "Take 'em out." Yuri's MK14 discharged, soon followed by Toads M4A1 chattering quietly and that of Roach's rifle following suit. The two men dropped as they were about to move yet another body.

"Clear." Soap muttered.

Price motions the squad forward. "Good, let's move." As they approached the shed their path took them close to the bodies of the slain villagers, seeing clearly for themselves the barbarity of the local Militia had inflicted. Many of the men were riddled with more bullet wounds then the holes you'd find in Swiss cheese. The women and young girls had suffered even worse treatment, their body's beaten and violated before having hot lead fired into their bodies..

Ghost sighed with disappointment. "Bloody Christ... I'm glad Trudy isn't seeing this..." he mutters.

"Too brutal for her?" Toad asked.

Ghost shook his head. "Knowing her she'd have gone loud the second she laid her eyes on this."

Yuna blinked. "Oh? How do you figure?"

"Let's just say that beneath her disciplined, well oiled, military exterior is a hot blooded young girl that is trying to get out sometimes." he explained.

While the Lieutenant explained Cryska muttered something under her breath and she stepped ON one of the killed militia soldiers as she passed over him, clearly the action was deliberate. While the Russian girl made her feelings for the dead men apparent Yuna grunted in response to the Lieutenant's answer. "Huh, I guess I wasn't the only one to get that vibe then."

Presently Gertrud spoke up over the radio, catching some of the exchange. "Is everything alright, what's wrong?"

Ghost responds a little quick to her question."It's alright luv. Just pretty rough down here, nothing we can't handle though." It was clear he didn't want the Karlslander to know what things were looking like with their boots on the ground.

"Are you sure your okay?"

"So far, don't worry, when we need ya we'll let you know lass."

As everyone moved through the shed and into a small, decrepit tin roofed building the sound of AK fire sounded out. Price took a moment to gaze outside a window for a second. He made a gesture with his hand that indicated that there were about seven foot mobiles. Yuri crept up to the same window and stole a peek outside. He saw one militia solider was firing his assault rifle into the air while his buddies we setting about their tasks. One man's task was ominous; he held a Jerry can at his side while a partner of his was speaking to a cowering man who was being held captive. It was quite clear what they planned to do to their prisoner.

The younger captain gazed out the window for a moment then cursed silently. "They're gonna torch the poor bastard." Soap hissed.

Gertrud heard that and spoke with a mixture of shock and anger. "WHO"S going to do WHAT?!" she demanded.

Price then spoke, trying to calm Gertrud's sudden burst of anger. "Don't worry lass, we won't let that happen. " He looked to his men. "Let's light them up before they light him up." The sentiment was shared as the weapons of the Task Force raise and the squad sighted their targets. Yuri took aim at the man with the Jerry can , his crosshairs falling on the man's heart, what little of it there was. As the man lifted his Jerry can Price gave the order. "Take them out."

Yuri fired twice at the man, the first shot hitting the target squarely in the chest and the second shot fired was aimed at the man's head, the back of the bastards skull blowing out behind him. By the time the militia saw the man with the jerry can slump to the ground and spill the can of petrol that the weapons of the other operators soon followed, taking out their targets in perfect timing. They didn't even know what hit em. The man who was about to be set alight looked around in confusion and fear, but upon seeing the squad exit the building he gave a hasty thanks before running off as fast as he could.

Price then motions to the outskirts of a village several yards away, towards where their objective may be found. "Move." Price continued to lead the squad ahead. Even with their current numbers, he still wanted to act with caution; they had no clue what they were getting into or what would be waiting for them.

As they moved Gertrud spoke again. "Is all well?" She asked.

"Yeah lass, we managed to save that lads bacon. He was a little spooked, but he's fine otherwise." Soap replied, trying to put the girl at ease. They could all hear her breathe a sigh of relief over on the radio.

"That's good, I'm glad to hear that."

Toad hitched an eyebrow in bemusement. "She really cares about people here, doesn't she?"

Ghost looks firmly at the former Marine, looking at him as though he said something stupid. "She's a witch mate: girls like her were born to protect people. It comes with the role. She may be stern and straight-laced but make no mistake, that girl can apply herself." he responds.

Toad blinks, but then sighs sheepishly. "Yeah... I guess that's true..." He then gives a small smile. "She's good people, a little weird... but good."

"She is true solider: not only in her discipline, but also in her heart." Yuri muses absently.

Ghost turned to Yuri, surprised that the normally reclusive Russian man spoke just now, but what he said was something was apparently what the British man could agree with. "Took the words out of my mouth mate."

Yuri was left with his own thoughts thinking back to an earlier moment where he, Nikolai and Price needed to get into contact with one of Nikolai's old contacts after digging for full Intel, hopefully to get a message out to the Russian president.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Tracking... Andrie Harkov, Russian FSO Agent... <em>**

**_Il-96-300PU - "Command Point"..._**

**_Status: Enroot to Hamburg for Peace Summit..._**

_Andrei Harkov kept close to President Vorshevsky as they were approaching the conference room of the aircraft. The president had just finished speaking to his daughter, it was clear she didn't like Vasili Zhukov, but then again nobody like the man on a personal level, which made Zhukov all the more effective at the jobs he was assigned to, not needing to care about what others thought of him. The president was growing weary of the loss of life to his people, and that of the soldiers fighting for his country. Not to mention he knew that as it stood that for Russia to stand intact that they had to make peace with the enemy, and make allies with them._

_The Ultranationalist hardliners, of course didn't like this..._

_There was ample disagreement from not only Zhukov but a few others in the cabinet. They didn't want peace: they were out for blood. Harkov's own personal opinions on the matter were rendered unimportant in his mind. His job was what was important. Both he and fellow agent Fedorov flanked either side of the President, with a couple other security agents of Team-1 guarding the room. As the cabinet argued their positions it was at this point the Russian Agent's phone vibrated in his pocket._

_Strange he wasn't expecting a call._

_His eye's glance over to Fedorov who glances back questioningly. Harkov retrieved his phone and checked who was calling him. He blinked at what he saw on the caller I.D: Nikolai. An old acquaintance in Russian military circles and sometimes offered his old friend insights as to affairs in the motherland. The Agent hadn't heard from the man since he went off the grid, so why the call now? He answered incoming phone call with a furrowing brow. "Hello?"_

_The voice that speaks isn't his old acquaintance, but that of a British man. "Agent Harkov?" The agent blinks, his eyes crooked into a look of suspicion. He was about to ask this mysterious voice who he was but his questions are halted before they begin. "Nikolai wanted me to tell you that: "The pot is boiling." the voice says evenly._

_Harkov's eyes widened. That was an old password that his old comrade used to give warning; that danger is fast approaching. That could only mean that this man was somehow working with Nikolai. _

_"I need you to let me speak to the President Vorshevsky, it's intrinsically vital that I speak with him. I have information on a move being made by Makarov, the airplane is going to be hijacked in mid flight."_

_If Nikolai was going to such lengths to do all this then it must be assumed it was of dire importance. Harkov turned to the Russian President. "Mr. President, forgive me, I have a phone call for you from someone saying that the aircraft is going to be hijacked."_

_The brought silence from the cabinet in the conference room. The president looks to the phone in the agent's hand and takes it, places it on the table and turns up the volume for everyone to hear.. "Hello? Who is this?"_

_"Price, sir." The eyes of those in the cabinet fixate in surprise on the phone, recognizing the name of a wanted man. Before any sort of outbursts over the fact they were currently speaking to the leader of a disavowed unit the British man continued. "I'm afraid neither of us has much time, not to mention that I'm taking a big gamble doing this but I had to give you a warning: I have Intel that indicates that Makarov is making a play to hijack the plane and capture you, Mr President."_

_The president looked about the room with unease at the now tense people in the room. A combination of suspicion and concern filled the faces of the cabinet. "Is this really true? How do we know it's not a lie?" he asked questioningly._

_"Because we both know that when Makarov wants something no one around him is safe, that goes double for those he needs for his plans and agendas." Some of the cabinet start to dismiss this but their words a cut off by the sudden sound of gunfire. It was at this point that every face in the room pales, eyes fixated on the door to the conference room, Harkov and the agents get ready to defend the president, weapons drawn and trained on the door. Price is heard humming flatly, it seemed he could hear the gunfire over the phone. "That's Makarov's men. Whatever you do Mr President; do not allow yourself to be captured; Makarov's men will be waiting for you on the ground once the plane comes down, possibly even has transport waiting to move you. He wants you for something, for what I'm not sure, but do not allow him to get what he wants." There was a short pause. "Good luck... and hit the deck." At the moment the phone cuts off, the door to conference room blows inward, automatic gunfire soon following..._

_Harkov's pistol returns incoming fire as some members of the cabinet are cut down by the hail of lead. With the assailants to the room killed the agent takes the President by the arm: the safety of his charge was now paramount amongst everything else._

**Tracking...**

**Flight Lieutenant Takei Junko... **

**504th Joint Fighter Wing: Ardor Witches...**

**Location... East of the Venezia-** **Romagna border...**

**Status... members of the 504th have made contact with Neuroi Air Units, now proceeding to intercept and engage...**

"Angie, how many do you see?"

"Nine Laro's. Two Diomedia."

"Dom, what about you and Jane?"

"Don't know how many Diomedia there are, five that I can see maybe, but Damn, the Neuroi really aren't joking around this time, aren't they Jane?" The sound of a Laro's type Neuroi exploding under Dominica's gunfire signaled the start of the battle, the Liberion girl already throwing herself against the enemy's unit's without caring about the opposing forces numbers.

Junko heard Jane's voice whimper over the com channel though her comlink and chastise the other girl for flying off to recklessly engage the enemy. The 504th was really being hit hard with Neuroi raids that infiltrated the territory around their base. Despite their best efforts at fighting back against the alien threat they had already suffered casualties with Pilot Officer Nakajima Nishiki and Pilot Officer Suwa Amaki getting shot down providing cover for civilians that were under evacuation orders a week ago. The two pilot officers managed to hold the line long enough for most of the civilians to escape, but in doing so they received serious injuries after suffering striker damage and crashing to the ground below. The two Fuso girls had been ordered to be confined to their beds until they healed up.

Until that was done, the five girls in the air had to take care of things in Romagnan airspace. The only other girls; Fernandia Malvezzi, Luciana Mazzei and Martina Crespi were left in charge of watching the base in case the enemy chose to raid it. Federica Doglio, the commanding officer of the 504th would have been counted amongst those on base ready to sortie, but she had pre-existing battlefield wounds that were slow to heal, so she could deploy with her striker only when it was critically desperate, otherwise she was under doctors orders to avoid doing so.

Flying Officer Patricia Schade, called "Patti" by her friends, then spoke with a cheerful tone. "Ah, there's another ten Laro's using the clouds for cover. Three more Diomedia. Which ones do you want us to take care of first mamm?"

Junko gave the squad her orders. "Patti, Angie, the three of us will focus on the Diomedia. Dom, will you and Jane be able to handle the Laro's on your own, can you tell me how many are you can see?"

"So long as Jane's by my side we can take these guys, doesn't matter how many there are: I'll knock them dead." Came a confident reply. "There: that one's first, let's go give em the ol "one two punch" sweetheart." Whenever Dominica's dearest wife Jane was concerned Dom was always the direct one when it came to the romance of the one who held her affection. And because she often threw herself at the enemy before knowing how many of them there were, she often wound up dragging Jane along behind her, if only because her wife was worried sick about both of their safety on the battlefield.

"D-dom! Be careful, don't get ahead of me like that!" Jane meanwhile often hoped that there would be some measure of prudence and discretion from her reckless Dom's simplistic and straight forward combat style. But by now after a few years of serving as Dominica's wingman, half of those years dating each other and shortly after the start of this year finally married to the girl she had fallen in love with, she knew that despite her love's lackadaisical facade she was at heart a spirited, hot-blooded witch. And passion? Jane found out that her beloved had it in spades; in more ways than one!

Junko sighed: knowing Gentile she was going to dash right into the thicket of the enemy's forces and keep pounding them like a boxer trading blows in the ring with his opponent. An ironic analogy, considering that boxing was Dominica's hobby during her off hours. Junko began to intercede against a Diomedia, one of the larger class of Neuroi that was the size of a whale, if not larger. She gave her two wingmen their orders. "Patti! Angie! Take up attack formation an hit the enemy at either side: find and destroy the core, then intercept the others. I'll draw it's fire, understood?"

Both girls nodded. "Roger." came their response.

The three girls flew in to greet the enemy with a hail of automatic gunfire. Strafing the first enemy, their gunfire raked the hostile Neuroi's hide. The hides of Diomedia class Neuroi required some time and effort to penetrate due to the thick hides but with either a combination of good team work or out and out raw power, destruction of such an enemy was possible. It took a little time more then they hoped, about three minutes and 45 seconds but finally they make progress.

"Their! I've gott'cha now!" Patricia's M1919A6 spat out thirty calibre rounds at the aliens weak point. The core is quickly ravaged by 30cal ammunition, the alien's form shattering into shards. Patricia laughs and then moves to intercede the next target, juking past Neuroi laser fire trying to stop her. "I've got it Flight Lieutenant, let's get the next one!"

"Just remember to pace yourself Patti, Diomedia aren't to be taken lightly."

Junko flew towards a nearby Diomedia class and led the charge. Angela silently moved alongside the Flight Lieutenant's left with little words exchanged, taking aim with her Panzerbüchse 39, firing one shot and then following up with yet another. This continued until she ran dry and had to reload. Junko then concentrated her fire on the weakened armor, the stubborn metal hide eventually shattering and the vulnerable core becoming exposed to her gunfire and shot to pieces. Similar plans of attack by Junko and her wingmen were used against the Neuroi, slowly but steadily witling down the obstinate Diomedia's numbers. These were long battles but they were at the moment manageable.

Occasionally Junko stole brief looks over at Jane and Domineca to ascertain their status. As usual Dom was tearing through Laro's wing formations, raking Neuroi hides with her M1A1 Thompson submachine gun with drum mag in one hand and destroying cores in a hail of bullets or one shoting them with the Colt .45 1911 that she had begun using as of late; a gift from her beloved Jane that she had begun to treasure and had replaced her M1917 revolver . Jane meanwhile was keeping close to Dom, keeping other Laro's from swarming the older girl as she was running into the thick of the enemy formations, the meeker girls M2 Browning thudding heavily in her grasp.

It seemed as though they were gaining somewhat of an upper hand in this fight. As the enemy's numbers began to whittle to below half their original numbers one of the Diomedia gave a loud shriek. In the distance are a wing of Neuroi that seem to be trying to descend to the ground; they seemed different from the Laro's. These ones appeared to be a few meters larger in diameter, had a much boarder body and swept back wings in comparison to the Laro's thin body and short, stubby wings. These new Neuroi also seemed to have small feet like appendages. And they were ungodly fast.

Junko relayed a message over the coms. "Everyone be advised, there's a wing of ten Neuroi of unknown class designation. They are currently descending to the ground."

Jane responds. "I see them! Dom, we should go after those ones, they're acting suspicious!"

Domineca finished off the last two Laro's of the wing she assailed, destroying them with her Thompson and her Colt .45, once she killed her targets her head snapped to the enemy Neuroi and with nary a word she tore after the unknown Neuroi class wing, charging at them with gusto, with her beloved wife trailing close behind her.

Junko's attention turned to Angela, watching the Hispanian dodging a Neuroi laser beam and firing her weapon while in mid barrel role, exposing the core for Pati to destroy with her M1919A6, killing the Diomedia. Thanks to Angie's magical ability's which allows for her bullets to become explosive, it is making what would be an otherwise much more difficult, taxing battle easier to manage in regards to destroying the Diomedia class Neuroi, their thick, dense hides being blown apart by the large rounds that are filled with highly concentrated and volatile magical energy. All witches are capable of channeling magic into their weapons to both stabilize them for easier control to nullify recoil, as well as to increase the weapons normal stopping power. But Angie's magic affinity increases this latter magical trait by tenfold.

That being said, Junko still wanted her girls to ere on the side of caution in battle. Factors for combat can only be known for so far before an unknown variable raises it head, as was the case with these new, unknown Neuroi, especially with the recent, alarming actions of the enemy throwing off allied command. Beside's most of the girls just came out of hospital, she didn't want them returning to the medical ward again this early, if not worse than that. She lead her girls toward the next Diomedia, strafing the enemy while using all matter of aerobatics in their arsenal to avoid incoming fire: Angi and Patti barrel rolled out of the way of laser fire while Junko brought her legs forward and then somersaulted over the large Neuroi's back side, firing a burst into its steel hide. Angi fired with her Karlslander Anti-tank rifle and punched a hole into the Diomedia's right flank but the core was still not exposed; she was off by three meters on her shot.

It was at this point that Dom spoke up over the coms. "Hey, Flight Lieutenant, I think these guys are up to something fishy. The Laro's are really swarming us here."

"Keeeyyah! No, no! They are coming too fast! Dom, we should fall back!" Jane wailed as she kept trying to return the Laro's fire.

Dominica scoffed as she tore through another Laro's that got in her way, making a push to destroy the new wing of Neuroi. "Can't do that Jane. These weird Neuroi... that aren't sitting right with me...so we gotta give em the old one two. Just stay right with me okay?"

"O-okay, Dom..." the other girl replied weakly.

Junko notice a Laro's approaching Patti and quickly opened fire on it, shredding the small alien to pieces. This battle was starting to become more and more heated. They had to route the enemy completely before they ran out of magic power. Diomedia class Neuroi and other similar types were difficult opponents to destroy thanks to a combination of tough armor and formidable attacks. Takei only hoped that she and the others could hold their own. While performing another aerobatic maneuver to avoid incoming laser fire and in the middle of begining her counter attack, she heard Jane's voice over the comms.

"D-dom, what are those Neuroi doing? Is... is that a rune?" she asked in a panic.

"Wh-what the... what are these Neuroi trying to pull here?!" Dominica clearly had little idea about what was going on.

At hearing this Takei's eyes scanned the battlefield. "Say again?! Are you meaning to say that the Neuroi are creating a rune?!"

Jane responds. "Y-yes mamm! What should we do-"

Takei heard repots about this weeks earlier from her old friend Mio Sakamoto, of how the Neuroi are trying to establish a bridge between realities. The only reason that could be assumed for why the Neuroi would be doing this was for gathering more resources and bolstering numbers. That cannot happen. "Jane! Dom! The Neuroi are trying to establish a portal to an alternate reality! We must not allow them to establish a link to the other world!"

"Say again?" Dom asked questioningly.

"Those Neuroi establishing the interdimensional link are designated as priority targets: Destroy them immediately, but be careful!"

"I'm on it! Jane, keep the Laro's off my back, alright?"

"Okay, please be careful Do-!"

Suddenly a large pillar of light shone from somewhere off on the ground, causing the two Liberion girls to bleat in surprise. At this the remaining Neuroi on the field converged on its location, save for a Diomedia and a wing of Laro's that were giving it cover, staying behind to ensure Takei, Angie and Patti were kept occupied. The three girls found that the Neuroi intercepting them had become fiercer than normal, putting the three of them on the defensive. Angie tried to fire at the Diomedia but a heavy laser blast crashed into her shield, fouling her aim and winding her.

"Not good." she muttered tersely.

"Are you alright?" Junko asked with some worry in her voice.

"I think-" Another four lasers ploughed their way into Angelia's shield, the heavy laser fire pushing the girl back by about ten feet. "Urgh... d-damn..." her voice sounded tired after the barrage impacting her.

Patti saw the enemy's attack slam into her comrade's shield and became worried for her friend. "Angie, regroup with us! Don't fight it alone!"

The Hispanian girl panted heavily. "I-I'm fine." Angie charged forward to re-engage, feeling the duty she had to Romanga swelling inside her. "I'll take it."

Before Junko could even curse the Hispanian for her stubborn charge Jane cries out in a panic as the pillar of red light off in the middle of the square several yards away intensified. Junko had to squint to see but she could make out Dom trying to destroy the new Neruoi while in the glowing rune as Jane flew into the pillar to support her beloved, remembering with dread the last time Dominica got hurt.

"Jane, belay my last order! Don't get near me or this light, we don't know what's going to happen!"

"N-no! I won't leave you! I made a promise to stand by you and that's exactly what I'm going to do! I won't let you get hurt again, Dom!"

Junko noticed another object far off in the distance moving from the north west... she wasn't sure what it was but... it looked vaguely humanoid. Before she could question just what it was she heard Dom's voice over the comm channel once again try to convince Jane to get to safety, but it was clear the other girl knew where she wanted to be: beside her beloved Dominica.

It was at this point, as the Neuroi and the humanoid object began to enter the red pillar after the small Liberion, all that were in the rune disappeared in a flash of light, including the two girls of the 504th. Takei stared wide eyed at where her subordinates and the force of Neuroi had once been. She didn't know where her friends were, nor did she know what the enemy was going to do now.

All she knew is that this wasn't a victory for the 504th Ardor Witches...

Patricia wailed loudly. "Dom and Jane are gone! This is horrible! What do we do Flight Lieutenant?!"

"W-we..." The Fuso girl found herself at a loss from seeing two of her squad mates disappear, but she desperately tried to shake herself back her senses. She couldn't afford to freeze up, she had to lead her remaining squad members; they still had Neuroi to fight. "We have to trust those two will be alright, right now we still have an enemy to eliminate. Angie, draw it away from the city but keep your distance from it if you can while we take care of these remaining Laro's. After we're done we will come help you."

Just as she gave the order the Laro's and Diomedia began to increase their speeds, seemingly trying to leave the battlefield.

"They're trying to escape." Angie stated. "I won't let that happen!" Angie charged at the Diomedia and kept shooting with her Anti-tank rifle while flying around the enemy, trying to find the Neuroi's core. But so far it's weak point had yet to be exposed.

As that happened Junko lead Pattie after the wing of fifteen retreating Laro's. The two witches weren't about to let the retreating unit get away. They gave chase and once in range engaged the trailing members of the Laro's air unit. The Laro's had begun to fly evasively, keeping themselves from staying in the witches sights. With their fellow Neuroi across the threshold they were no longer concerned with acting as diversions; they could focus on their survival now. Something that the witches would make them work for.

Junko managed to get another Neuroi in her sights and raked it with automatic fire from her Type 9-9-1 cannon but as she then jockeyed her way on the six of another she heard a loud screech. She looked over several hundred yards away to see Angie take another two solid hits to her shield.

"Flying Officer Larrazabal?" The Flight Lieutenant asked with clear concern. She saw Angela's silhouette falter a moment, but suddenly strengthen again. The stoic girl seemed to be more focused on her duty to her squad mates and the country she was assigned to protect. "Flying officer, disengage you're target! You can't take it alone like that!" Angela was getting far out of range of the other two girls. Junko knew that at this point it was dangerous for her to take on a Diomedia class by herself like this, she could see the Flying officer discard her empty magazine and reached into her gear to retrieve a fresh, full one .

However, Junko's warning came a few seconds too late; as Angela just finished reloading another five lasers slammed into the Hispanian witches shield, each blast electing a strained grunt until the last laser impacted, which shattered her shield on impact. To Junko's horror she watched as the girl began to fall to the ground below.

"ANGIE!" Patricia cried out her friends name, but a Laro's spat lasers at her, impacting her shield. The Diomedia that shot down Angela started to converge on the two remaining girls of the 504th as the Hispanian continued her tailspin down to earth. Once the large alien got into close enough range it opened fire. Junko and Patricia barely dodged the barrage of laser attacks.

Junko turned to Patricia and flew perpendicular to the enemy. "Patricia, stay on my tail! We're going to try and heard these Neuroi into a good killing field if we can!

"B-but what about Angie?!" the Britanian wailed.

"We'll come back for her. Unless we deal with these Laro's and the Diomedia we will be leaving the enemy to attack this territory with impunity. As witches, we cannot allow this!"

"U-understood, mamm."

A weakened voice over the radio made Junko flinch. "M-mamm... I'm sorry...got...careless. Gotta...land..."

"Flying officer! Are you hurt?! What's your status?!" But that was all that she could get out of Angie. Junko gritted her teeth as half the Laro's broke off and began to swarm the two witches. The lasers of the Neuroi were closing in on the girls, hoping to scorch the young soldiers. The enemy now had the advantage...

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... American Army Supply Column...<strong>

**Location...Monroe Louisiana... **

Supply lines were proving to be a delicate thing to maintain on the home battlefront, what with the enemy's fighters, armor and patrols trying to hit anything and everything that bore United States military colours, or anything American really. The convoy had trucks filled with rations, ammo, weapons, replacement parts for vehicles and new uniforms for new recruits. Pretty much the essentials for the conflict, with the Russian forces on the East Coast pushed off save for what few hundred stragglers that were still left, the west coast still had a full force of strength for the American's to contend with.

The central United states became heavily fortified and densely packed with military personnel and displaced civilians. With the large, defensive holding pattern that the bulk of the US had initiated they had managed to hold their ground and prevent the Russian's from advancing further into the American Heartland. Though that wasn't to say the Russian's didn't ease up in the slightest; the pounded the defensive positions with everything they could throw at the defensive lines. The price for holding that line came at a hefty cost: thousands dead and wounded; both military and civilian.

The two men in the back of the truck were amongst the many Army and National Guard personnel that helped hold the line against the Russian assaults on the "Central US Safe Zone." All the supplies the convoy was carrying was for Camp Shelby, making sure the Forward Operations Base was well supplied.

The one soldier, Kormen, sighed. "Hey did you hear the word recently?"

The other soldier, Morris, looked up from the bed of the truck blankly. "Hrm? Word on what?"

"Something freaky happening in New York, did you hear about it."

"I never heard anything man. I _never_ hear anything. It's always the same old "need to know basis" shit. Can't ever hear just what 's going on in this damn army. It's always a god dammed secret." He paused. "What _did_ you hear?"

"Well that's the thing, something about weird pillars of light and some sort of things or something coming out of em."

Morris blinked. "What the fuck are you on man? Pillars of light?"

"I know it's weird, but that's something I heard from one of the guys not long ago."

Morris scoffed. "Someone's just yanking your chain man, don't fall for that shit so easily."

Kormen sighed. "Well... I guess you might be right."

Quite suddenly a sudden glow enveloped the center of the convoy, a pillar of light shining to the heavens. The convoy comes to an abrupt halt as men start shouting in confusing. Looking outside Kormen notices something materialize some twenty feet from the back of the supply truck. It was a set of large, black and red objects that seemed to have a small round body and stubby legs, something that the two soldiers couldn't image seeing before their very eyes. The objects quickly floated up into the air and flew off.

Looking up the solider notices more red and black objects of varying sizes trying to fly away in different directions, some of the objects that were flying low had smashed into buildings trying to leave the light. One of the objects crashed into the truck leading in front of their own and another smashed into a tall office building and crashed to the ground below, getting pinned underneath debris. No sooner as he sees this something crashes though the top of their trucks covered top. Both army soldiers curse loudly in surprise at what they see.

Other craft like objects seem to be flying away from the lights last position, but one strange thing of notice was a frightening, metal biped form with four limbs that seemed like they were some sort of bladed arms with a red blade tip and looked as though a fighter jet and knives had a one night stand and had resulted in this... thing. The... creature... for lack of a better word, tore off in a direction separate completely different then the aircraft looking objects of the same colour; traveling Due-East instead of South-West.

The taller girl that had fallen into their truck groaned. "Ow. Shit."

"D-dom... you okay?" the smaller blond asked.

The taller girl, with brown hair and a stern look and wearing weird devices on her legs detached the strange mechanized objects and promptly jumped out of the truck with what appeared to be a Tommy gun and a M1911. She notices the truck that was flattened and approaches it, taking off in a dead run.

The blond haired girl cry's out in panic. "Dom! Wait! Come back!"

Kormen shouted after the girl who was duel wielding her old weapons. "H-hey! Stop right their! Halt!" He quickly tried to look for his M16A3, finding it under his seat. He then dismounted and took aim.

The blond haired girl bleated. "Wait, don't shoot her please!"

Morris drew his service pistol and trained it at the other girl in a panic. "Don't move! Show me your hands!" the girl only bleated in surprise and froze fearfully.

Suddenly the object on the flattened truck screeched and tried to get airborne. The girl leveled both her Thompson and colt .45 and then fired on the run. The black and red object bleated as gunfire raked it's body. It fired a laser at the girls direction that narrowly came within grazing distance of her. Because of the trajectory of the beam it also nearly grazed Kormen, he hit the ground and screamed out a curse. Morris also similarly cursed and ducked his head.

The girl's archaic submachine gun slowly but surely managed to break through the strange craft's shell, which was weakened by the impact it had with both the truck and the ground, though by then it clicked dry. She then fired her pistol into a small gem like object of the strange machine as it seemed to make a demonic screech in protest. She had to empty the whole magazine into it before quite suddenly the... thing... exploded in a brilliant shower of metal shards. Some of them blasted into the girl and gave her some superficial cuts, which seemed to surprise her.

The other object that was buried by derbies then screeched and attempted to get airborne as well, discharging a few errant lasers at the convoy and vaporizing another truck. By now the convoy realized that something not normal was attacking them; men dismounted and scrambled for cover. The brown haired girl also took to cover by a damaged car and kept low as she reloaded.

As Morris looked on in frozen shock the girl he was still absently point his pistol at had moved and gotten out of the devises on her legs, trying to lift the heavy M2 machinegun. He took notice and tried to hold his hands steady as he pointed the gun at her. "D-d-d-don't fucking move I said!" he orders shakily.

The girl turned to him as she tried to heft the M2 Browning up. "Help me!" She pleaded.

Morris blinked. "W-what?

"We have to destroy that Neuroi's core before it gets away and my magic isn't working, help me with my weapon!"

"Urm, w-what?" Another screech followed by laser fire that smacked into the building behind them made the pair bleat. "OKAY, OKAY, I'LL HELP!" Quickly he helped her heft the heavy machinegun up and they both rest the weapon on the side of the truck by means of the cover group assembly with the American solider holding the weapon steady. The small girl pulled back on the weapons large charging handle and began to fire a long, sustained burst at the Neuroi as it started to get airborne. To the solider this was something that struck him as ungodly surreal, everything from the weird-ass craft that shot lasers to the two girls that were packing heat and running around in their underwear.

As the fifty cal kept firing the other girl with that was packing her two choice weapons also began to empty them into the laboring object, as she did this she shouted to the Americans. "You guys better start shooting, otherwise this thing is going to give us a major pounding!" The soldiers stared slack jawed at her for a moment but helped out and fired their weapons at the black and red object. As it turns it fires a shot and takes out five men, causing their surviving buddies to bleat and start parting from each other in panic. Eventually the large volume of fire cuts through the hide of the object , exposing a gem that quickly becomes shattered, causing this entity to explode brilliantly.

By now the other craft had already became distant silhouettes in the sky. The American grunts finally left the safety of their cover and approached the girls hesitantly, some commenting shakily at the fact five of their men were just vaporized, other asking what the hell's going on. Kormen got up from off the ground and moves briskly towards the girl holding the Thompson. He had a look on his face as if he was repeatedly shifting between anger, fear, horror and utter confusion.

The girl called out to her companion. "Hey Jane, are you alright?!"

"Yeah, Dom. Are you okay, are you hurt?"

"Just a few cuts, nothing serious." The older girl noticed the man standing to her side and looking right at her. "Hey... so... do you know where my wife and I are?"

At this the soldiers face became further entrenched in shock. He looked back over at the pile of shards on the ground, over at the truck she and her companion had fallen into, and then back at her as he struggled to piece together what had just happened in the past minute and fifteen seconds. "Okay... three questions lady. One: Who the fuck are you? Two: Where the fuck did you come from? And thirdly: WHAT THE FLYING FUCK WAS THAT FUCKING THING!?" After a brief pause he then realizes something. "Wait... did you just say wife?"

The girl blinked slowly and made a questioning grunt. "Yeah; so where are we then?"

The man had a moment of pause, then responds. "The United States of America of course, where else would you be?"

The girl blinked. "Don't you mean United States of _Liberion_?"

"Li-what now?" the solider looked at her as if she were a few corn-dogs shy of a picnic.

Realization shone in her eyes. "Oh wait, wait, that's right, my unit got a report on this a while ago: America is the alternate realities Liberion. I must have forgotten during the heat of battle. Well if you're another version of my country, then do you think you can help us out? "

"Listen, nothing's going to be happening around here until you answer my questions. And knock off all that crazy talk static!" The solider snapped. The girl seemed to look the man over passively, as if sizing him up. The man seemed to notice this and tensed, his hands holding his rifle in a firmer grip then before. Both noticed the guarded intent in each other's eyes, although the girl noticed that the man also has a sliver of killing intent laced in his pupils, probably still riding out his adrenaline rush filled fight or fight response. And his eyes seemed to be screaming "fight" despite the fact his body was being kept in a measure of visible check.

The girl then exhaled evenly, then speaks. "You want answers; I'll give them to you if you give me a ride." She looked over at the shattered shards and scoffed. "But those things we just busted our butts to take out? There will be more, of them. There was word that a few had already gotten through to this world back in Romagna. You're world is going to be facing a pretty tough fight on your hands."

The soldier seemed to look unsure what to make of all this. He looked over to Morris who gave a shrug, looking lost and confused while the girl adjacent to him had a look of worry on her face. After thinking things over for a minute he groaned reluctantly. "Alright. Get in the truck you two crashed into and we'll get rolling." As he turned on the balls of his feet he muttered under his breath. "God damn, I'm going to really get a section eight for this bullshit today."

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Gary "Roach" Sanderson...<strong>

**Task Force 141- Disavowed...**

**Location... Sierra Leone, Africa...**

**Status... factory of precious cargo located... converging to secure...**

**Status Update: Factory Clear; Precious Cargo not found...**

Up until this point Roach was hopeful that they would find what they had came out here for. Africa was proving to be a miserable place to operate in. When Gertrud not only heard, but saw from the sky that Militia were executing villagers she immediately wanted to engage and destroy the enemy foot mobiles for committing such an evil, barbaric act. Price however had to order her to stand down: that she couldn't allow herself to be seen until absolutely necessary or give away the Task Forces position. She really wasn't happy with that. Then again neither was anyone else for that matter, but being careless and stupid would only serve to get everyone killed. She was about to disregard and disobey the order the old man gave until Ghost had to talk her down, trying to help explain to her and give her perspective, trying to appeal to the disciplined Karlslander in her. She listened and complied then, but she was still angry about what had happened. Now that they were at the factory and taking out the patrols and sentry guarding it they found that the place was empty. No crates, no Makarov, nothing of any real importance. So far things were proving much more difficult.

Price got on the radio to Nikolai. "Nikolai, the factory is a dead end. No sign of Makarov."

The loyalist PMC responds back. "He must have moved to the militia's headquarters at the center of town."

Toad sighed audibly. "Anyone else feel as though were on some giant wild goose chase?"

"Yeah, it's starting to feel that way to me." Roach agrees.

Scope, Cryska and Yuri approach the rest of the squad, having provided ample sniper support from the watch tower. Roach had to admit, from the way that Cryska performed out in the field that she really was pretty dammed skilled with her weapon. A part of him hated to admit it, but the professional operator in him was impressed with her; Yuna could spot talent in the blink of an eye. One thing he still wasn't quite used to was "Cold Cryska". the fact she carried this weird vibe, a separate and unique sort of weird that was unlike Ghost's own vibes was so far the big thing throwing him.

Yuna tried offering some encouragement. "Good things come to those who wait, right?"

"Let's keep those positive thoughts coming everyone."Price then responds to Nikolai. "We're moving there now." Price acknowledged.

"No point waiting time here then." Ghost comments evenly.

Just as everyone was about to move forward Gertrud give an warning. "H-hey guys, you have a large incoming force inbounded to your position!

Soap's voice becomes worried. "We've got company? How many have we got Barkhorn?"

Gertrud paused a bit longer then she should have. "FAR too many!" she replies.

"We're compromised!" Price warned, then he began to order his squad forward. "Everyone rally on me and start pushing forward. Let's go! Trudy, when you hear me give the word you let these bastards have it, you copy?"

"I copy."

With that everyone starts rushing through the cramped quarters of the rickety village as Militia began to descend upon the Task Force. Roach kept moving through cramped walkways, as Yuna, Cryska,Toad and Ghost took the high road while the others took the low road. Yuri was on his six and now using his suppressed AK with red dot sight. As the AK wielding thugs kept spraying their ammo at the Task Force it was clear that what vastly outnumbered the Task Force had an advantage; discipline and control. The rounds they fired managed to fined their marks, but bullets kept dancing along the ground and nipping their feet and simply blowing by their heads.

One man pops out of a building out of Roach's perif. His rifle instantly snaps towards the target and he depresses the trigger. the man's head snaps back as the round smacks into his braincase, causing him to pitch backwards. Another man up high on a old wooden roof is spotted and he pumps another four rounds downrange. Like the last man, this new target goes down. He and his comrades in arms keep pressing forward, managing to eventually clear the way ahead and up to the roof tops for a ways as even more hostiles were nipping at their heals not far behind.

"I think they know we're here." Soap deadpanned.

"All that matters is Makarov's cargo. Keep moving." Price orders. Just as everyone manages to get back to the ground the sound of a vehicle approaches. Roach and the others notice a pickup truck with a mounted fifty rolls up from their left flank, spitting rounds at the Task force and forcing them into a ditch. Yuri, thankfully manages to take out the gunner with a well placed burst from torso to head, and Cryska the driver with a shot right between the eyes. "Yuri, man the .50 cal. and lay down cover fire! Put fire on the technical!" Toad follows the man and gives him mobile cover fire as militia start appearing on rooftops, in addition to a Technical driving down the inclined road, which was soon shredded by Yuri's suppressing fire.

At this point things took a surreal turn as Roach suddenly felt a sense of robotic disassociation while firing his M4A1. The militia just kept running into their field of fire, as if they were willingly running into their bullets. He at one point wondered what was going through their heads anyways? Haven't these guys ever heard of a self preservation instinct? Each time a moving body came into view and was neutralized another body would find itself walking into the Sergeant's sights, repeating the process. Somehow this seemed just a bit unsporting, way too easy for a SAS operator turned Task Force operator. As Price shouted the direction of contact Yuri and Toad and some of the others spat lead in that direction.

Roach noticed that both Scope and Cryska were matching each other shot for shot, every round that left their rifles were perfect headshots. When it came to sniping these two girls really shone in the field of marksmanship. He couldn't help but be impressed by that, especially with Yuna making her rifle work its magic. Another technical began rolling down the hill, followed by more militia following behind it and with even more men on rooftops. Yuri swung the fifty downrange, gibed the driver and gunner while everyone else was sighting their targets downrange. By this point everyone had lost count how many Milita they dropped.

The sound of an explosion ringing out shook Roach out of his robotic trance of shooting when he saw Yuri being thrown from the truck and Toad getting knocked on his back. To his horror the truck was overturned in such a way that it came down upon Toads leg. The younger man screamed in agony as his foot was being crushed by the weight of the truck pressing down.

Toad screamed his lungs out. "GOD, IT FUCKING HURTS!"

Ghost shot up to his feet. "Toad, hold on mate!" Ghost ran to Toad's, and Roach silently followed close behind. The wiz of a stray bullet caught Ghost in the hip, causing him to stumble, though he manages to reach the overturned truck. "Ah, bloody fucking bullocks!"

"You okay, Ghost?" Roach asked worriedly.

"I'll live. Right now we have to get this damn truck off of Toad , give us a hand." The three of them began to work at trying to lift the truck but it was hard going.

"Mortar fire!" Price had a look of grim realization as more militia began to barrel down upon them, another Mortar impacting fifteen feet away, kicking up dirt and shrapnel. It was then that Price gave the order. "Barkhorn! You're up! Let em have it!"

As a wave of African militia drew closer automatic gunfire suddenly felled around fifteen men coming down the hill, the others that were behind them froze. Everyone watched as Captain Barkhorn descended from the heavens with her strikers roaring. She did a summersault once she reached a low enough altitude, then just hovered before the armed African men about twelve feet off the ground. When they gazed upon her there was first looks of stunned confusion, the enemy unsure what to make of her. But it soon gave way to fear; men screamed and shouted incoherently, a few began to draw a few steps backward if not take off running.

After the moment of pause Gertrud leveled her MK46 and began to mow down the rest of the militia. At this the men on the roof tops tried to shoot at her out of fear, but their rounds were deflected by her shield, which was now glowing at full power. She continued to rake the enemy before her from the rooftops to her right flank until the weapon ran both hot and dry. Once that happed she lowered that weapon and brought up the M32. She fired once at a building off in the distance with a machinegun positioned by the railing, the 40mm shell exploding and engulfing the machine gunner. She then placed her sight upon another group of men on another rooftop who noticed the fact they were noticed and began to run. After depressing the trigger and hearing a satisfying "ploonk" Trudy's next round impacted in the middle of them, blowing off an ample amount of body parts. Another mortar going off close to her position drew her to the mortar operator off in a tower about thirty meters away. She took aim with the weapon's optic and fired again, the grenade shell taking a second and a half to reach its target. At this point many of the men they currently face began to fall back.

Gertrud took this opportunity to head over to the truck, focus her magical energy and use her power to lift the truck off of Toad's lower leg, allowing Yuri and Roach to pull the man out from under it. Everyone quickly gathered around Toad.

"Are you alright son?" Price asked with concern.

Toad held on to his leg painfully. "S-shit, I think it's fucking broken."

Ghost muttered a curse. "Damn... looks like a crush style injury."

Cryska inspects the young man's leg carefully, her eyes were still dull, her mouth hooked a little. "Look's bad." she states simply.

"Can you walk on it?" Soap asked. Toad shook his head quickly and sucked in air thorough his teeth. He was combat ineffective now. This was going to be a real problem for them that they needed to figure out, fast.

Scope looked to the two captains with a stern look in her eyes. "Well we have no place for an LZ. here; we gotta get him out of here somehow."

Trudy finishes loading her machinegun with a fresh box mag and looks seriously to the squad. "I can carry him out of here to safety, that way we can get him evaced from the battlefield. Is that acceptable?"

"Sounds like our only option." Ghost muses, his hand now clutching his pelvis.

Trudy noticed the Lieutenant's wound and her eyes widen. "How the hell did you get that?!" she demanded, her body surging towards the British man.

Ghost seemed to stiffen a little this and responds. "Just a bit of a flesh wound, took a nip from a stray round getting to Toad-"

"THE HELL THAT'S A FLESH WOUND! THEIRS A HOLE IN YOUR HIP YOU IDIOT!" the girl snapped. Everyone blinked in surprise. It was uncommon for them to see Trudy this mad. She then glared at Ghost firmly. "Don't you EVER let me catch you doing anything reckless to cause such unnecessary wounds to yourself like that again; AM I MAKING MYSELF CLEAR?!"

The Lieutenant looked to Trudy with a look of confusion, but as he looked at Trudy and studied her a moment he responds with a reassuring tone. "I might not be able to promise that I won't get hurt again, but I'll make sure to be more carful luv, alright?"

Gertrud gazed at Ghost sternly, then sighed. "I suppose that will have to do." She then took Toad's hand and started to pick him up in a fireman's carry. "I'll be back, no doubt with me heading off for the time being the enemy will be trying to come after you again. You all be careful, okay?"

"Roger, that." Soap response with assurance. He then looked to Toad and gave him his instructions. "Alright mate, once Trudy finds you a safe place you stay hidden and keep low, you hear?"

Toad nods with a shaky breath born from pain. "R-roger that, sorry sir."

Price gave a warm smile. "Never you mind son, you did well." He gave Gertrud a nod, which she returned and then proceeded to fly off with Toad in tow.

As she took wing Yuri turned to Ghost questioningly. "I don't understand, why did she become so mad with you Lieutenant?"

Ghost just shrugs, but Scope gives a knowing smile. "She was worried for him." she replies, a hint of sage wisdom in her voice.

Price then got on the radio. "Nikolai, we have a situation; Toad's been injured pretty bad and he needs a medivac. Gertrud has volunteered to take him someplace safe for pickup while the rest of us continue with the mission. Can you send a bird to get him exiled?"

"It will have to be very secure location, but if she can find one for him, then Da, I can do that my friend." came the Russian's reply.

No sooner did Gertrud head out of sight that the sounds of the militia draw close again, replacing the drone of the young witches Striker Units, the hostiles knowing that the person they couldn't comprehend and had feared was departing. Price then gives his squad their next rally point. The squad starts running as the mass of armed bodies about twenty plus strong inch by inch begins to catch up to them. What worse is that someone else had managed to set up another mortar, explosions ringing out and demolishing shacks. The squad headed back up to the roofs to lose the militia and shake whoever was on the new mortar.

As the Task Force rounded a set of stairs to another roof top the squad came to a drop to another roof, this one a tin roof of sorts. Price, Soap and Cryska manage to make it to the other roof with no real problem. Roach was just trailing Yuri, both men moving with all the strength their legs can muster, with Ghost and Scope close behind.

Yuri was first to make the jump. After leaping to the adjacent roof his feet came down heavily. The rusty, weakened tin roof gave complexly and Yuri fell through. Roach saw this and knew just what was coming. He jumps with all the strength he still had in his legs. His arms only just manage to catch the hot tin roof, the momentum of his jump however cause the rest of the weakened portion of roof he aimed for to also collapse. He fell into the wooden domicile along with Yuri, while Ghost and Scope managed to aim for much more sturdy parts of the tin roof that managed to support their weight.

Both Roach and Yuri manage to sit up in time to see an African man approaching them with a machete. Both assault rifles of the two operators and fire on the assailant, ten rounds from each man killing the man several times over. As the dead man's body falls into Roach's lap he rolls his eyes with an annoyed grunt. "Christ sake, what hell is it with me and not making jumps anyways?"

Yuri simply picks himself up, reloads a fresh mag and moves forward. Roach sighs, picks himself up and follows suit. He had the feeling things would only be getting less satisfactory from here on out.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Shein...<strong>

**Faction... The Collective...**

**Location... Somewhere along Eastern Seaboard...**

It was a strange new world... a strange new reality. Even though this was supposedly like the Earth back in her reality it was noticeably different. Upon crossing the threshold and entering this new world she could feel something different about it deep in her core. She was unsure what it was... the words to describe what she felt had currently escaped her.

She did know she was given a set of very important tasks: the first of which was the testing of this new form that her shell had adopted. While she was young compared to many of her people she held promise and talent in the storm that was recognized, cultivated and nurtured. If she was expected to be amongst the next generation to help lead their people to salvation then she would have to prove it. With this new Sicarius "Vier" form it could prove beneficial to ensrureing that the Neuroi survive. A new form for her people to adopt was always a welcome addition to her people, and to be privliged with the honor of being the first to try this form was of great excitement to her, she hoped to make her peers and mentors proud with her deeds.

But their was another task. One of great challenge: To find a wayward sister of her kin; to bring this sister of the Neuroi to exaplin her disrupteve, subversive actions. She hoped this Neuroi, this "Schattan" she had heard about would, be willing to see reason. If not then she would have to fall back on the dire orders she was given; that if the Mediator refuses to return to her kin to face consensus then her life shall be forfit.

She knew it woud be hard to track this mediator, but try she must. One thing she found strange was that the air of this world was filled with the buzz of messages as numerous as their were stars in the sky. Much more vast then that on the Earth back in her reality. Perhapse sifting through these transimssions as you would sand though a sive could work, but she would require a repository of information and knowlage.

Using her powers in the storm to focus she calmed herself and tried to find something of worth. To find such a repository and in turn track down her quarry with better ease. After several miniutes she finds somethin close to what she may be looking for further East. She increases speed, her resolve tempered to perfection. She knew that she would surly be counted amoungst the hero's of her people.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Charlotte "Shirley" Yeager...<strong>

**501st Joint Fighter Wing - Strike Witches...**

**501st Witches Base, Romagna...**

Two days have come and gone, and Shirley was finding that the duties that came with commanding the base was not turning out as she expected. She brought the stamp down on the thirtieth piece of paper of the clerical paper work she had to fill out with a heavy thud. This part of being a CO wasn't at all glamorous for Glamorous Shirley, not in the slightest. But she knew that this was a job that was just required by the role she was assigned to, no matter how much it sucked. She had to sign and then stamp every single one of these requisition forms, one hand working after the other. These were things the units all needed; food, supplies, allotted service pay for the girls, new parts for the striker units, ect.

She brought the stamp down one last time on the final sheet of paper after writing her signature. "Their done! No more papers to sign or stamp!" That felt like a relief to the young Captain. She with this all out of the way she could finally take a moment to recoup and move on to other stuff. She gave her back a quick stretch, feeling a knot forming at the base of her spine.

No sooner had she finally gotten comfortable behind Minna's desk Perrine walked into the commanders officer with another stack of papers that seemed to number in the couple dozen, with a yellow file smack dab in the middle of them. "Thiers more I'm afraid." the Gallian warned evenly.

Lucchini wandered into the room with a look of excitement. "Hey Shirley! Are you having fun in here?!"

Shirley looked at the stack of papers, looking drained. "B-but, I just finished filling out requisitions, how could there be more?" she asked weakly.

Perrine brought the stack of papers over to the desk and set them down heavily, which caused Shirley to jump a little. "That was just requisitions for the 501st. Half of these are requisition forms for the 78th Tame witches Reserve Unit, the other half are status reports that require filling out on recent activities on base. Those need to be filled as well."

Lucchini's excitement washed away and turned disinterested. "Boring! This is not fun at all. It's stupid and lame; where's the fun in this?!"

Perrine turned to the smaller girl with a firm look. "It's not supposed to be fun! It's work. It's one of the duty's required of a commanding officer to ensure we get what we need and that command knows what's going on in our unit."

"Yeah, well why did they have to make it such a drag to do? They could have at least made it less dull!"

Shirley stared at the stacks of paper with a foreboding feeling as her sore arms were trobbing. _How in the world can Minna stand having to do all this day in and day out?_ She had a new found respect for the Karlslander at this point. Anyone willing to go through this special hell reserved only for high ranked brass deserved some measure of reverence. Taking in a sigh she was about to retrieve her pen and stamp when she noticed Yoshika pushing Junior Sergeant Darya Abakumova in a wheel chair with Lynne walking beside her. Shirley smiled widely and warmly; any sort of distraction from paper and pen based torture for another hour and a half was welcomed. "Ah, hey girls, how can I help the three of you today?"

Yoshika looked to Shirley with a look hesitation. "Uh, Shirley, Lynnette and I have had a chance to talk with Darya for a while and she wanted to know if she could ask about something.

"I- it's... kind of important to her." Lynne added.

Shirley looked to the small Orussian girl with a warm look. "Yeah, of course! I'm the acting CO in charge until Minna's back, so if you need anything then I can get it taken care of for ya personally."

Darya's gaze was cast to the floor shyly. "C-comrade Captain. I wanted to ask something of you if I may be permitted. " she asked quietly.

"Of course, ask away."

"It was about my upcoming orders that were to send me back home... because of my injury..."

Shirley smiled. "Ah I see. You don't have to worry about it; all your papers will be sent out and you can go back home to your family. I know they likely miss you a lot and would love to see you back alive. If you want I can arrange it so you can get first class transport home and get a rush on your orders to get you back home to your family quicker."

Darya shakes her head. "Forgive me mamm, but I don't want to retire from service." Shirley, Perrine and Lucchini had looks of surprise on their faces at hearing this. The three girls looked at the small Orussian, wondering why she would want to stay in service.

Lucchini decided to stop wondering and just ask. "But how come? Don't you want to go home?"

Darya fidgets a little uncomfortably. "I just... I still want to be helpful somehow. I want to keep helping during this war, whatever that may entail. I just... I just don't want to retire..." she explains weakly.

Shirley sensed that there was probably some other reason that the younger girl wasn't telling her, but that was moot at this point. "Are you really sure about that?" The small girl nods, forcing the Liberion girl to think carefully what to do with the Orussian. An idea finally comes to her. "Well... I guess we can use some help in the administration and duty desk. We're going to need help around here seeing as it's currently understaffed."

Darya looks up to Shirley in surprise, then a look of relief flooded her. She straightened her body and saluted the Captain. "Comrade Captain, thank you! I promise to do my best in my duties!"

"I know you will kiddo. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No mamm, that is all."

Shirley giggled. "Alright then, as you were. Dismissed." She looks to both Yoshika and Lynnette with a warm look. "You two really are a good pair of kids, ya know that?"

The two girls just smile and laughed sheepishly and then looks to Dayra. "There's some food that we prepared in the mess hall earlier. Would you like some?" Lynne asked the Orussian girl.

The small girl's face lit up. "Da! Thank you, I'm very hungry."

"Well lets go before it gets cold." With that the three girls left the room, leaving the others alone.

Perrine looked at Shirley with both eyebrows raised, looking rather impressed. "That's a very nice thing that you did for her, Captain."

Lucchini clenched her fists in excitement and bounced up and down. "Yeah Shirley! You were soooo coooool! When I get older I want to be an officer just like you!"

Shirley felt embarrassed by the amount of praise being heaped on her by her two squad mates. "Well what can I say?" Truthfully she didn't know what to say, but she had to admit that despite her initial hesitation that she felt happy for the Orussian girl. Something about the decision she made felt right to her. "I guess this is one part of the job that I really like." She looks to the stack of papers again and a bead of nervous sweat rolled down the side of her head. "This part still kind of sucks though..." she sighs, grabs a sheet of paper from the stack, sets it down, writes in the allotted area she has to sign and stamps it. "Well, no rest for the weary I guess."

The other girls just seemed to smile mildly. Even after two days, Shirley seemed to be operating like well oiled machine. They knew if she had her own, actual command that she would certaintly excel in it. They could tell no matter what happened, Shirley would always do her best and ensure the girls were taken care of.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Gerturd Barkhorn...<strong>

**Task Force 141- Disavowed...**

**Location... One of Nikolai's safe houses, some there in Africa...**

_"Urm... your field is in matters of medicine and health, is that correct?"_

_"Yes Captain, I'm one of the medical personnel in charge of the medical well beings of the soldiers here, is there something I can help you with?"_

_"Well... that is to say..." after taking a moment of struggling Trudy reaches into her pocket and pulls out the contraceptive packet of pills. "What can you tell me about these... "pills", exactly?_

_The base doctor blinked and took a look at the packet of pills and studied them. "Birth control pills? They're a type of contraceptive that is taken orally, filled with estrogen and in the case of these ones progestogen, that is used to trick your body in thinking that there is a pregnancy, which allows you to avoid getting pregnant." He then squinted at them, studying them carefully. "Strange... they seem familiar...where exactly did you get these?" he asked._

_"Theirs was this woman: Kiza, that gave them to me after she... talked to me, though I'm not sure how to use these exactly." the Karlslander explained._

_The base doctor took the pills from Trudy and breathed heavily. "I told her not to give her pills to other female personnel, they have to be selected specifically for the girl in question. She never listens!" He tossed them in a trash can and then took a moment to study the Captain. "If you plan on doing anything that requires the use of that sort of contraception, then I have to do a check into your medical history and a brief check up, if you can permit me."_

_She thinks on this a moment before responding. "Well...okay then, if that's what I must do..."_

It has been just over two days since the mission in Sierra Leone, the mission turning out to be fruitless, the cargo gone when they finally tried to converge upon it. Since then the Task Force had begun to prepare for upcoming missions. While she stood in the shower of her quarters, water flowing off of her well toned skin Gertrud was mulling over her thoughts and feelings in great and minute detail, leaving no fold of her brain unturned, the fact that she missed her comrades and wondered if they were okay and were worrying about her being one example. It was obvious to her that they in fact did. But that aside, she was in all honesty in territory both emotionally and psychologically; new, different, confusing and out of her comfort zone.

When it came to the matter of love; Gertrud held for the longest time held love only for her sister in a way that in truth wasn't all that sisterly. She knew this was the case, always had been since she was a small child, but with her reaching maturity she recognized that it was a highly unorthodox thing to give your heart to a sibling; even in her world. In the world she was in now it was outright taboo, save for a titillating fetish for certain people that to many should remain simply that. Even now... even with what she was feeling now... she still couldn't help but love her sister, her beloved Chris like that. It was the only thing that served to ground her, even up till now. But she knew that she had to act responsibly; she was a solider of Karlsland. She had to be disciplined, so she would have to keep restraint on such feelings.

But now there was the new feeling that not only stood beside the love she held for her sister but another that sat jovially beside and intertwined itself with the love she had in her heart and soul for Christine: the feelings she had for the Lieutenant.

Simon was the one person she could never fathom she'd harbor such feelings for. Friend? Possibly. Respectful camaraderie as fellow soldiers? Much more likely. But as someone to give her heart to... it was unfathomable. And yet she held something for him in her heart. And why was this? He was a disciplined warrior, a realist, someone who put duty, honor and professionalism to the highest standard. But more then and beyond that; she saw a fellow warrior that she could see had suffered from past hardship, like she did. She empathized with his pain: for she was no stranger for the condition of "Soldiers Heart".

She remembered her own trials and hard ship: when her sister was hurt and hospitalised in a coma Trudy's life became darkened. She then sought death in the flames of war, only to be brought back out by her comrades. She was glad that they did. The thoughts and fears of what happened if Chris had awoken, only to hear news of Gertrud's fate; to imagine if she did indeed fall to Neuroi laser fire... how devastated Chris would have been if she did die. The very thought of doing something like that and the pain it would have caused Chris filled the Karlslander with a degree of guilt. But, thankfully, her comrades had caught her as she was falling during her emotional tailspin. She missed every one of them... she felt lost for a while without them...

But Simon was there to watch her six. To give support out of a sense of obligation. Gertrud wasn't sure if he felt the same for her as she did for him, but she could tell well enough that if nothing else he cared for her as a sister in arms. _But would a relationship really work?_ As she thought this she considered everything; in her world such relationships between witches and conventional soldiers of any rank or station was a real and enforced prohibition based regulation of her worlds militaries, by members of both Karlsland, Fuso and to a degree Britiania was considered very firm. Out of the three however it was heavily enforced in Karlsland. Not surprising; as that her homeland was a country who prided itself on discipline. For other nations the regulation was still enforced, but not nearly to such militant degrees. For a Karlslander to harbor and act on such feelings would result in strict reprimands and punishments.

Condoms were a contraceptive that existed in her world but by the standards of this world that Simon was born in it was still very unrefined. Also realistically she knew, as did other soldiers that it was a logistical equivalent to a pot of gold. Out on the battle theater they were highly coveted but near impossible to come by in the field and only soldiers on leave were likely to get their hands on them. And even then, high command didn't want to risk girls who were still by all accounts children to be exploited by the adults nor to have young witches who were the age of consent but still had their magic risk getting pregnant, taken out of the unit and unable to fight the Neuroi due to the still being refined advances in protection, so it was considered best to establish a blanket prohibition on such relationships.

Even with the advent of the "pills" in Simon's world to mitigate the possibility of facing an unwelcome surprise, she would still in essence be breaking a military regulation that was made the standard throughout all of her worlds militaries. Even in the case of Fredrikke Porsche and the Tank commander Schmidt whom she fell for, the only reason they didn't face severe reprimand was because they didn't engage in anything sexual for the longest time, and by the time they did Fredrikke was old enough that her power had begun to weaken, and therefore couldn't serve on the front lines anymore. Gertrud didn't have that luxury and she knew it.

But as she continued to wash her hair under the warmth of the water running from the shower head, she also remembered the baggage that Simon had imparted to her about his life. After finally earning the Lieutenant's trust she was given his whole life story and how what he experienced had shaped him. She wanted to be there to help him through dark baggage that she too also had to deal with. But she knew that what happened to him had scarred his heart, his mind, his soul. These wounds ran deep and she was unsure if she could avoid tripping mines with him, she wanted to do her best to avoid that.

And on top of all this, barring all these other problems would be how any sort of relationship between the two of them would work or even last? They were soldiers of two worlds. How could they possibly maintain it if they even decided to risk everything to pursue it?

As Trudy stood stoically in the shower she looked to her hands for a few minutes, and then clenched them. Even despite these challenges that she would have to face, she wanted to help a fellow soldier. If Yoshika and Minna were there for her in her time of need she felt in the very fiber of her being that she do the same for the Lieutenant. As she turned off the tap and reached for her towel to dry off she heard a knocking at her door, followed by a voice.

"Oi, Gertrud, are you their?" It was Simon.

"You may enter, it's open." she called out. She heard the door swing open and then close, the sound of footsteps entering the room adjacent. As this was happening she retrieved a face towel to dry her head and used the other for purposes of modesty.

"So what is it that you wanted to talk about earlier luv?"

"Something important that I've been trying to figure out." Gertrud replies. As she leaves the bathroom she see's Simon, standing in her room. The moment he catches Gertrud in his eyes he immediately cast his gaze away.

"Uh...um...did I come in at a bad time?" Simon scratches his head as it's turned to the wall awkwardly. "I can come back later if you want when your-"

"It's fine." She respond's simply, moving the face towel she used to dry her head and draped it around her neck. .

Simon's mouth shifts from beneath his balaclava. "Are you sure?" he asks, wanting to make sure.

"I'm sure."

Simon sighs and slowly looks back over at Gertrud. "So um... you wanted me for...?"

Gertrud looked to Simon with a solemn look. "Lieutenant, might I confide in you something?" Ghost noticed the seriousness on Gertrud's face and nods, at which she continues. "I wanted to say that I really do appreciate everything you've done. And that also feel honored that you were willing to let me in and treated me as a comrade in arms. I know that... well... that it must have taken a great deal of strength to do so. I'm glad that we are able to trust each other this much..."

Ghost seemed to notice that the young Witch seemed to be building up to something and placed his hands in his pockets. "I'm guessing there's probably more than that you wanted to share?"

Gertrud blinked, then smiled at the Lieutenant's observation. "Yes. You're very good at noticing things like that, aren't you?" Her smile soon settled to neutrality. "To be honest... I have... I have been struggling with something as of late and I don't know exactly where it will go or what will happen." A sudden look of frustration washed over her and she grunted in annoyance, realizing that trying to convey her feelings was difficult." Argh, damn; why is this so hard? I mean, I know what some of the consequences are but... well, I want to try and face them regardless. But this is still weird for me! I have no idea what the hell I'm doing and yet here I am tiring to do this of all things! How do I go about talking about this, or explaining this to you?!"

Ghost's face fell a little flat as Gertrud started to act a little hot and cold as she was struggling to talk with him. "I'm not sure that I follow."

Gertrud sighed and scratched her head. "I know. This is just very... difficult for me to say and I'm still got a lot of emotions that are churning inside, but..." Gertrud looks up to the Lieutenant and folds her arms, struggling to articulate her thoughts and feelings. "I think I... I mean... I want you to understand that this is strange for me, okay?" She took a deep breath. "I have... feelings for you...Simon."

Ghost blinked and his eyes locked with Gertrud. "Feelings?" he questioned.

"Yes. This is still sort of weird for me...to be honest this is the first and only time I've ever had feelings for someone that wasn't-" She suddenly stops herself when she realizes she almost let slip her love for Chris out to Ghost and quickly amended her statement, to ensure he didn't know that her beloved Chris was whom she was speaking of. "Urm... there's this girl. I...I've known her since childhood, all my life in fact. She and I have always been close and for the longest time I wanted to be there to care for her and to be there for her, to support her and make her happy; that is all that matters to me. Even now I... I still love her... in a way that's very intimate. But at the exact same time, I also can't help but also feel something for someone who has been there for me while here in this world. I think you're the only other person, and at that the only guy I would trust to allow access to my heart in such a way."

Ghost seemed looked at Gertrud with a flummoxed look, apparently surprised that Gertrud had just laid this out for him. A thoughtful look flashed in his eyes, then he bowed his head trying to take this all in. After a few moments he then chuckles ruefully. "Trudy, Trudy, Trudy...why in the world would you do a fool thing like that, luv?"

Gertrud blinked, another reaction she didn't expect from him. "What do you mean?" After a moments silence, realization and disappointment floods her face. "You don't... feel the same way... do you?"

Ghost's eyes looked a little pained, and he made a throaty sound of discomfort. "Well, to be honest I do feel...something for you Trudy...for the first time in my life since...well, for as long as I can remember at any rate, I can finally feel like a whole person... thanks to you. But..."

Gertrud was again surprised; Ghost apparently felt something for her, but why would he hold back such feelings."But what? If you feel something like I do, then why..." she let her question trail off, wanting to hear Ghost's reasoning.

Ghost sighed lightly. "Trudy...I'm flattered you think of me that way, but let's face it: I'm not boyfriend material. You deserve someone who will treat you right, who can support you, who will be trust worthy and who isn't a total mess in the head like I am. I did tell ya that little story of my life so...well, you should know better than anyone else. Heck, you're probably the only person who knows my dirty little secrets." He draws an even breath. "You deserve someone who doesn't have baggage like mine Trudy. This isn't normal baggage, it's like Plutonium, it's like poison; it hurts people besides me. And I can't stand the very thought of something like that happening to you Trudy, much less anyone else. I don't want all this dark shit in my head to end up hurting you."

Gertrud's throat ran dry and tightened. She realized that Ghost saw himself as both unworthy of her and possibly a danger to her. The emotional weight and baggage he carried felt staggering as he confided his feelings to her. She could tell in his voice and mannerisms that while he felt something for her that he didn't want her to get that close to him, more for her sake then his own. And for the first time, she could hear fear laced his voice. Fear not of her, but of himself being near her and somehow hurting her.

Ghost continued. "This girl that you cherish is lucky to have you in her life. And by the sounds of it you would both be happy together. That would be the better choice luv; leaps and bounds better then a guy like me." He must have saw the look in her eyes just now, because his face softened. "It's alright. It would for the better: you have someone that sounds like they would treat you right, you won't get into any trouble with the brass back in your world for breaking regulation, and more importantly my problems wouldn't trouble you or end up hurting you. You don't deserve the problems that being with me would bring, Gertrud." He shrugs his shoulders. "So why do you feel this way for me, anyways?" he asked with genuine confusion.

Gertrud managed to collect herself and tried to explain as best she could, her voice trying to find strength. "Well, beside the fact I like that you're a disciplined, consummate professional and a good soldier and friend... it's because I... also know what it means... to be trapped in a dark place like that..." Ghost's eyes seemed to stair with intensity at this serious confession and she continued. "After the fall of my homeland to the Neuroi and after what happened to... to my sister... I found myself in a dark hole in my own mind. I felt like a failure, as both a soldier and a sister. That the guilt for what happened to Chris lay solely on my shoulders. I loathed myself and the only other thing I could get lost in was my hatred for the enemy. I wanted to fight and attack the enemy, drive them out of Karlsland, just to throw myself at my opponent regardless of the eventual outcome." A saddened smile filled Gertrud's entire face. "By that time I joined the 501st... I wanted to die in the flames of combat while destroying the enemy... and I almost got what I wanted..."

"Trudy..." Ghost's voice had a tone of soft horror. His eyes were wide in fear. Simon of all people in the 141; had a look of pure terror in his eyes. Not inflected by the enemy but at the solemn confession of one of Gertrud's hidden demons. He feared for her at this point, likely a million thoughts running through his mind.

Gertrud shook her head as she smiled. "It's okay, really. I had Yohsika Miyafuji and Minna to help me out of that hole: to open my eyes and show me how stupid I was to want to do such a thing. And after Chris finally started getting better... I felt so guilty... so ashamed at the thought of what happened if I did succeed. How it would have hurt Chris... and how it would affect my squad. It's thanks to them that I never wanted to ever think that way again." She looked up to Ghost. "If Yoshika and Minna were able to be there for me in my time of crises, my time of need... I want to be that sort of person for you, Simon."

Ghost blinked in unease. It was clear that everything she said had moved him but she still saw the fear flicker a bit in his eyes. The fear he held for her should she get close to him. He mopped his face, took a deep breath and spoke once again. "I understand, but all the same... I still don't trust myself Gertrud. If I ever did anything that wound up hurting you then I would never... never forgive myself." He gave a haggard laugh. "I'm a high functioning wreak luv; I've both seen and done things that to be completely honest aren't to most people moral or right. And it's still bouncing around in my head even when I try to put it all in a box." He gave a slight shake of his head as a small smile shaped crease formed on his mask. "My hands are stained with a lot of blood and I have a lot of darkness on my soul. I'm not a good person luv. I'm a bad man..."

Gertrud shook her head and approached him. "That's not true." She stood before the Task Force operator, and her face seemed to glow with empathy. "You're a good man, Simon. You're just... hurting... " She placed her hand to his chest as she looked to where his heart lay. "Right here..." She then moved her hand to his head, her palm resting at the temple of his skull. "And in here..." She brought her hand back to her side. "If Yoshika and Minna could help guide me from the darkness that enveloped me... I want to do the same for you. As a fellow soldier. A comrade in arms. My friend. And everything that comes from me doing so; I think I'm okay with that. I can deal with it. I just don't want to leave someone, anyone I care about to be trapped in such a dark, lonely place like I was. That is why I want... I want to try... if nothing else. And put everything into accomplishing this. I want to help you find the happiness that I had finally found. " She recalled an excerpt from a book that she found during one of her forays on the internet and decided to share it, the words striking her as both appropriate to the situation and profound. "Joy shared is joy multiplied. Pain shared is pain divided."

Ghost at last had a look of realization in his eyes. With everything that Gertrud had laid out to him; how much she cared for his well being and how much she was willing to face what may come carrying this out and to be someone that he could be close to, it was then he came to a final decision: If Gertrud was willing to try and do everything in her power to make such a relationship work, that she decided that his happiness was important to her and that she wanted to be someone he could rely on...then he was damned well going to extend the same courtesy to her. "Who dares, wins": those words played over and over like a broken record in his mind, giving him strength. Everything else in his head was being drowned out by this ethos. It was then that her happiness became all he would care for, if him trying to stubbornly rebuff her ends up hurting her then that would already be a strike against his one and only strike he allowed for himself.

He looked over at Gertrud's bed and spotted her helmet on the night stand. He slowly walked over to the night stand, took the helmet, then went over to Trudy and placed it on her head. She seemed confused at first but then Simon chuckled, his hand at rest upon her cover. "Alright Trudy... I'll do what I can to make this work. For you if nothing else. If it makes you happy... then I'll give it my best."

Trudy looked at Ghost quietly for a moment, but then she drew close to him, lifting up the bottom of his balaclava. His mouth and nose exposed she then pushed forward and kissed him. There was only a little hesitation before Simon returned the kiss. She can tell he was still hesitant but by this point the young witch knew it was because he didn't want to hurt her. But she knew that it would be something that he would need, someone that was one of the few close to her heart that she wanted to have a part of her life. After a full minute of kissing the two soldiers pulled away and stared into each others eyes.

"Would you... like to come to bed with me?" Gertrud asked.

Simon peered at Gertrud questioningly. "Are you sure about that?"

Gertrud laughed. "Don't worry, I took percussions, just in case. I'm still surprised that you had people who managed to create pills that prevent pregnancy in this world."

"You really planned ahead, didn't you?" Ghost asked, half joking.

"You know what they say about a good solider of Karlsland. Besides, if I intend to keep fighting Neuroi or anything really then I have to make sure I take the proper measures to prevent unexpected surprises."

"Smart lass." Simon kissed Trudy once more. While in the middle of doing so Gertrud's familiar appears and her magic field starts to glow around her body. Still kissing the Lieutenant Trudy pulled Simon towards the bed. She fell backwards and Ghost was pulled forward and now on top of Trudy. Both soldiers continued to kiss each other, their lips locked in an ever growing passion. The hearts of the two soldiers both bore scars, but it was hoped by the young Karlsander of the 501st that perhaps tonight those scars would start to fade.

And yet... with each and every kiss Trudy had planted upon Simon, images of Chris filled her mind. Each time her lips engaged the Lieutenants own her sisters smiling face materialized in her eyes and the folds of her brain. Whatever warmth from Simon she felt on her skin also elected a chill that ran up and down her spine. Was this really right? Part of it felt like it was... but some other part... something deep in her core... didn't feel ready for this. Like things were moving much too fast...

All that Gertrud could think about each time Simon kissed her: was her beloved Chris. Was her subconscious trying to tell her something? Her heart was beating, but who was it for?

Simon moved his way down to Trudy's neck and gave her a gentle kiss. A soft gasp escaped her throat as she shifted from beneath him. His right hand glides up her neck and to her cheek and he pulls her into another kiss. By now Trudy's body was starting to become warmer, a sudden wash of a particular feeling filled her system, but the chills that racked her spinal column and even her nerves continued to dance. Something still felt off to her, but she couldn't be sure what it was. When their lips parted once more and a ragged breath escaping her she looked to him with a longing, yet subtly confused gaze. Her hands went to the towel around her body. She seemed about to part it and reveal herself to Simon but then a look of deep, conflicted hesitation filled her.

Simon saw this and gently he placed his hands upon her own. "If you don't think you're ready then you don't have to luv. Thiers's no rush."

"It's not that. I..." Gertrud's eyes shifted away in embarrassment. "I never showed myself to anyone but the girls. I never did so with a man before." But deep down it was much more than that. Gertrud still wasn't sure if this was something she should do just yet...

"Well, what I said still stands regardless." he responds softly.

Gertrud's eyes shift back to Simon... she felt something akin to love for him, she was able to admit it to him at least, and thankfully he returned those feelings. But she still felt great unease. This was something of a massive fluke and was still uncharted territory for her. If she was still being honest, some small part of her was afraid; especially with things going this fast. She had always held for the longest time love for Christine and Christine alone. Simon was a good man, a good soldier, and a good friend. But a part of her was still unsure about wither or not she was ready for the two soldiers to have such an intimate relationship. Not to mention she was worried what could happen if it was found out she broke regulation back at home: that was still something the disciplined Karlslander still fretted over, despite her initial thoughts that she could handle it.

Gertrud took a deep, reluctant breath. "I... I'm sorry. I think this is going much too fast. I don't think I'm ready for us to even get to that level yet." Gertrud mopped her face and groaned. "Oh jeeze, what was I thinking? And even after I..." Trudy had a guilty look on her face. After the huge confession she gave to Simon and making the preparation's, was she still unsure of herself? "I'm sorry... I just don't want to mess things up Simon... I don't want to make a mistake that could end up hurting either of us. I just bore my heart and soul to you and now I..."

Ghost took Trudy's face in his hands tenderly and smiled. "Hey now, it's alright. I know this is still something you're still trying to work out. I get that. The last thing I want is to see the girl I've come to care for feel like she is being forced to do something she doesn't want to do, or if she's even sure what she wants to do. This is a big step, so don't rush things if you're this unsure."

Gertrud smiled even though she still looked guilty, but it soon faded and looked at Simon with concern. "Thank you Simon. I was... I was afraid that I'd hurt you if I hesitated... but... I'm glad that..." She trailed off, overwhelmed by the fact that Simon was more than happy for her to sort out her feelings. "I think it's best we take it slow for now. Is that okay?"

Simon gave a light laugh. "Of course Trudy. It isn't a race, after all." He kissed her forehead gently and then slowly pulled back. "You take as much time as you need; I'm not planning on going anywhere."

Gertrud's smile slowly returned and she kissed Simon on the lips. This time the chills that ran down her back before were subsiding. The choice to take things slow for now felt like the right choice. She still cared for Simon, but she still wanted to work though these feelings piece by piece first; make sure she didn't make a mistake that she would regret making that hurt either one of them in the long run.

"Perhaps we should call it a night?" she ventures.

"No problems luv. I can let myself out if you want." Ghost offered, starting to get up.

Trudy reached for his shirt and grasped for his jacket, stopping him. "You can still stay you know. I'm okay with kissing and the occasional cuddling for now."

"You're sure?" he wanted to make sure that Trudy really was comfortable with the two of them sharing the same bed.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Well... of that much at least." she responds.

"Sure thing, just give me a sec." Simon placed his sunglasses on the nightstand and shed his jacket so that he was only left with his T-shirt, then the pair got under the covers. The two of them looked at each other's with looks of warmth. With their feelings now out in the open it was best for the two of them to take their time with things. Both of them were still in uncharted waters, so patience and cool heads would prevail in the end. Simon and Trudy drew close, kissed each other one last time and said good night before finally succumbing to the ever growing lull of sleep.

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><p><strong>Tracking... Cryska...<strong>

"Hah... how... how erotic..."

Outside the door to Gertrud's room a certain purple eyed, silver haired sniper had overheard the private moment that had just taken place. At first she listened in and was pressed up against the wall, the intimate moment of both Gertrud and Ghost being over heard, hearing the sounds of kissing between the two soliders. At some point she began rubbing her legs together as her body's libido started to act up, her pussy growing more and more wet the longer the pair in the room made love. By now her pants were undone and her hand caressing her most sensitive parts.

The witches voice suddenly came from behind the door. _"I... I'm sorry. I think this is going much too fast. I don't think I'm ready for us to even get to that level yet."_

Cryska blinked. "Hrm?" Did she hear that right? The young Captain of magic was still hesitant? This was a side of her that the Russian woman hadn't seen before. _Are they really stopping? But... I haven't finished yet..._ Cryska could have sworn that things were going to get steamy, but apparently someone must have chosen to put a kibosh on the sauna, as the saying goes.

_"Perhaps we should call it a night?"_

Cryska sighed; she hadn't even came close to reaching her limit yet. With her body now head up and without the free show she found that this would prove to be a luckless night for her. Undeterred, she started to think of some other means of helping in getting her libido satisfied. _Ah, perhaps thinking of my beloved Ranger would help me find release._ At this line of thought Cryska continued to masturbate, and after a while she started to pick up pace, thinking of a multitude of ways that she could make love to the woman who's beauty had stolen her heart. She was so lost in her own sexual fantasies that eventually featured Yuna, Cryska, and a third woman that the Russian sniper recalled with great, loving fondness that she almost didn't notice the blue haired object of her affections, who had just wandered into the hall for a some water after conducting a meditation exercise when she notices Cryska masturbating furiously.

"Cryska... what the hell are you doing?" Yuna asked flatly, hoping she wasn't seeing that she thought she was seeing.

Cryska stopped for a moment, then her face lit up at seeing the Bluenette in just her ATAC combat pants and her sports bra. "Ah! The apple of my eye is still awake! Wonderful!" She quickly gets to her feet and wraps her arms around Yuna. "Did you want to join me my love?" Her left hand finds its way to Yuna's right breast and caresses it, but Yuna pushes her hand away while wearing a flat look.

"It's too late in the evening for this, I'm going to grab a drink and head off to bed." When Cryska's hand caressed her face she noticed the fact that it seemed... wet. "Wait... why is your hand sticky?"

Cryska grinned seductively. "How about I show it to you? Perhaps you'd like a taste of my honey?"

Yuna then realized just what the other woman was getting at. "Yeah... something is telling me I probably don't." As she starts to walk off for her drink Cryska glomps on to the blue haired sniper and she uses the hand she just masturbated with to grope at Yuna's groin. "For god sake! Quit that will ya; you're really throwing off my Zen here!"

Cryska smiles and whispers into Cryska's ear seductively. "No need to fear my love, there is another way that we can reach nirvana. We can reach it together if you want..."

Yuna sighs as she finally wrestles Cryska off. "Why do I get the feeling this is going to be a common occurrence in my daily friggen schedule?"

* * *

><p><strong>Edit: As a bit of an amendment, I wish to give major props to blaze for giving me some ideas for this chapter and that part of Cryska not wanting to talk about her last name is confirmed cannon in the Clocktowers story so many thanks, again, to Blaze for informing me of this aspect of her character.<strong>

**Edit V2: Hello everyone, Bucue here. Upon re-reading Chapter 26, I found that I have made a grievous error in terms of character growth and narrative flow as well as possibly setting the wrong precedent of the story. I felt like the Trude/Ghost lemon occurred much too early in the story, happened far too fast and was handled unrealistically in terms of Ghost and Trudy's personal character growth, as well as relationship dynamics in general. I also feel that having this particular element happen at this point would be derailing Trudy quite a bit and would be a disservice to have happen. As a writer I must be able to admit to myself when something I write, and what I feel in my own heart, is in error. **

**This goes double when the characters feel like they are being forced and railroaded into plots and narrative that doesn't make sense to them, which is what I feel when I saw this chapter; going over the chapter again I feel that this would most certainty be the case, so I opted to re-write the chapter, and that Gertrud and Ghost will have their moment together at a later point. I want to avoid potential unfortunate implications and I felt that if I left the chapter unrevised that I would be unable to write WR141 anymore; and the reason is because I felt like I screwed up so bad. If I intend to uphold the values and virtues of good writing as I so claim then I must be critical of what I write, and when I first posted this chapter I slipped up on the last portion of the chapter in question. Again I like to apologize and I give my thanks to everyone for being patient with me. Ghost and Trudy will still have lots of development and their lemon scene will officially occur down the line but for now it is far too soon for it to happen yet.**

**The next chapter, however, will feature some of the dark subject matter, so be warned that it wont be for the faint of heart, and for me will be somewhat difficult to write.**

**Time to regroup and hit the keyboard again, and this time keep myself squared away. Thanks again everyone.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Hello again everyone. I'd like to let everyone know for those who missed it that there has been a revision to Chapter 26 for reasons of proper character development, interpersonal realism and for the sake of establishing a proper president. As mentioned in the edited chapter I felt that the Ghost/Trudy lemon was far too premature and would have derailed both characters, in addition to the fact it felt rushed upon rereading, so I made the difficult decision to hold off on that particular lemon scene until a later point in the story when it feels more natural and right in the narrative. The characters may want to be together with their love interests but they also want to make sure they are treated well and realistically, and in this case I had stumbled in that regard.**

**While there will be lemon scenes of both Yuri and some Het in WR141, they will happen in due time and will not be rushed; I aim to ensure they are crafted in ways that feel natural and right to the characters and are handled with as much tact and forethought as possible. I'm highly critical of my work; if I find that if something I had written has potential of damaging the narrative and characters I seek to record, then revisions may be in order. With that said, we will likely see Simon and Trudy's actual lemon take place but it will have to come at a point when it feels right for the characters and narrative, and upon retrospect to have it now would be too early and would feel rushed. So I recommend that everyone re-read chapter 26 so that they can see the revised ending, but never fear; love will still find its way into the WR141.**

**With that elephant in the room out of the way I'd like to give a shout out to my friend and fellow writer ****blaze92x45 for helping me out with getting my creative flow up and running again. The two of us have known each other for a little over a year and have been working together and helping each other out with the others stories in addition to collaborating and brainstorming possibilities for our stories and future writing projects. If you all enjoy WR141, please be sure to check out blaze's stories The Clocktower and see just what the SW and COD characters will be experiencing within the Clocktower verse and Iron Within which takes place in the same verse. Be warned that both blaze's story as well as my own will be coming from different paradigms and interpretations not only of the Neuroi but of outlooks on life in general. If anything though, it will be fascinating to see how two writers can interpret two series in two completely different ways, so be sure to give The Clocktower a read, as well as Iron Within. **

**Thanks again for the support. Time to get the story Oscar Mike.**

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking...Private James Ramirez...<strong>

**Affiliation... Hunter-2-1 75th Ranger Regiment, Fire Team-2...**

**Romagna... East of the Venezia-** **Romagna border...**

**Status: Two days prior to Darya's assignment to Duty Desk; Five seconds after rune transportation from New York...**

James found it abundantly clear that interdimensional travel was proving to be a stressful pain in the ass and overall a weird trip. This time, while flailing through the air after being randomly spat skywards some thirty or forty feet however, he also found it to be potentially dangerous. Other flailing body's end up moving alongside him through the air, shouts and cries of terror ringing out. He felt his body impact the roof of a building with both the momentum and the forces of gravity pulling him towards the edge as brick shingles followed him. Letting loose a sting of curses he grabs hold of the steel rain gutter. Two screaming body's pass on either side of him; one was his sister grabbing hold of his belt and combat rigging as she belted out a series of foul language that Marines are known for, dangling off her brother with a death grip above the ground some four stories high. The other was of the Russian who tried to skewer the Ranger mere moments ago with his AK mounted bayonet, his body falling to the pavement below, with a sickening impact soon following.

A large splash also followed, looking back James could see a Russian T-90 fall into a nearby cannel that was reminiscent of Venice. As a matter of fact, he figured that he must have been in the alternate version of Venice, though at the moment his thoughts were more focused on the fact that he and his sister were now dangling from the edge of a freaking roof twenty feet up.

Laymen, Zander and Morgan also wind up flying through the air and hitting the roof; as the three men wound up drawing close to the ledge, both Laymen and Zander manage to get to their feet in time to try and leap to the cannel in hopes to avoid becoming human pancakes on the pavement, their feet pushing off the edge of the roof in desperation, while Morgan manages to also grab hold of the same rain gutter James held on to. James isn't able to see exactly where Laymen and Zander are but he hears a pair of splashes behind him, though there was a second and a half of delay between the two.

"Holy sweet Jesus, what the hell!?" Carmen exclaimed in panic while holding on to James for dear life. "Where the fuck are we?!"

"Is that a trick question?" he responds with a combination of mild concern and flat deadpan. While he clung to the steel gutters he could feel his arms burning and straining to hold on. He could feel his M4A1 poking into his leg as it dangled from his sling.

"I'm fucking serious!" Carmen barks in frustration, clearly in no mood for James's snarky remark.

"Well, knowing our luck we're back in the other reality. Looks like Romanga to me. And knowing the whole canals sitting pretty behind us; we're in Venicia."

Carmen looks down, her already firm death grip on James tightening. "Oh god, don't let go okay; it's going to be a long fucking fall otherwise!"

Morgan tries to get himself up onto the roof and off the ledge, groaning as he tries to get up. "Okay, this: this right here, is NOT fun."

"Are you okay?" James asks.

"I think so." Morgan manages to help himself onto the roof of the building, and then proceeds to attempt helping James and Carmen. He reaches out to Carmen first. "Here, take my hand, I've got ya."

James made sure his sister was safely on the roof, the muscles of his arms were burning as if they were on fire. Once she was safe they both pulled him up next, the trio take a moment to catch their breath but pretty soon they can hear a cry of pain coming from the direction of the canal. The three American's look to the waters and see Zander being held above the waterline with Laymen beneath him. Zander seemed to be in terrible pain.

"Hey, what's wrong?! Is he wounded?" James called out to the Ranger holding his buddy aloft.

Laymen looked up to the roof at James and responds with urgency. "I think he broke his spinal column; when we made the jump I heard his hip hit the concrete road adjacent the canal before he hit the water! He could barely keep his head up!"

"I can't feel my legs!" Zander cried. "I can't move em; I'm paralyzed! I'm fucking paralyzed!" It was clear that the young man was distraught over his injury.

James noticed some gondolas that were docked nearby and motions over to them. "Get him out of the water and into one of those gondolas! " While Laymen starts carrying out the guidance that James gave the Private then got on his head set radio and sent out a transmission to the other squads. "Hey, we're going to need a head count. Everyone sound off and let us know you're still okay, how copy?"

One by one American Rangers and Marines sound off, most of the remaining squads are still combat effective, though two marines and a ranger were confirmed KIA after they fell off of a roof of a building to the pavement below. James, Morgan and Carmen manage to find their way off the roof and into the domicile where a surprised family had started making lunch, the trio apologizing for intruding and warning them to stay behind solid cover and not to go outside. After hustling through the building they come to the door, to which they quickly stack up. Morgan takes a quick glance outside the door frame and then turns back to James.

"Shit, got a Russian squad across the channel. About ten guys in all. Looks like they're tripping out."

Carmen scoffs. "Fuck sake, that's all we need. Is that it?"

James makes a even toned groan, unsure of the situation. "Unlikely, must have been a crap ton more of them portaled into this world." He sighs deeply. "I _really_ don't want to have our worlds problems making a mess for the people in this reality; they have enough shit to deal with thanks to the Neuroi. They shouldn't have to worry about people killing each other on top of it."

Carmen shoots an urging look to James. "Then lets fucking waste those Russian bastards then. One less squad causing problems for these people."

"Yeah, you know it." James gets on the radio. "Hey Laymen what's your status, are you and Zander good?"

"Yeah, were in a gondola but Zander is hurt bad, man."

"Well it's going to get worse. Glass the other end of the canal, we've got a Russian squad of ten guys. Do you think you can suppress em?"

"Erm... I think so... I've got line of sight if nothing else."

"Alright, on my mark you guys suppress em while we get to a better firing position, how about it?"

Thiers's a moment of pause before Laymen responds. "So, you're the guy calling the shots amongst us privates then, huh?"

James tilted his head. "Well so far I'm just going off my gut, and it's kept both me and you guys alive up till this point."

"Alright, I'll give you that." The Ranger allowed. "I'm just hoping that gut of yours is consistent."

"Guess we're about to find out. On my go you guys..." James took a deep breath, then began to count off. "Three...two..." Before getting to one however, a couple laser beams suddenly cut a swath of destruction that ravaged the Russian squad and surrounding buildings, catching everyone by surprise. Confused Venician civilians bleated and screamed as Neuroi flew overhead with a pair of witches in hot pursuit, the civi's running for cover or hitting the deck. The surviving members of the Russian squad also started screaming and the squad leader ordered his surviving comrades to get out of the street. James saw them running and gave the order, charging out of the building with his sister and Morgan following close behind. "Shit! Shoot now! Shoot now!"

James and his fellow Americans opened up on the last surviving members of the squad and though they returned a brief bout of fire the three Americans quickly killed them as they tried to run towards a building. The sounds of more civilians bleating out in panic and shouting in confusion were heard. Some civilians that were still in the street could only look on slack jawed at what they had just witnessed: the sight of two strange squads of two human armies firing upon each other instead of the Neuroi was something that they were having a difficult time taking in. From how things in this world were explained to him and the others on their first week here, James reasoned that human on human warfare was an infrequent rarity, no doubt thanks to the Neuroi. When James, Carmen and Morgan passed one civilian he flinched and backed out of the way in abject fear at the three American's. Once at the Gondola with Laymen and Zander sitting in it they noticed the other members of their squads that had been nearby when they got portled into this world approaching from alleys and though buildings.

Sergeant Vaun took a knee along with the other Aerican Ranger's and Marines, all of which were looking quite pale. "So...what's the word?" He asked shakily. "What exactly is going on around here."

James inhaled evenly. "Well Sarge, aside from the fact that Zander is now paralyzed from the waist down were now in a city that's got our enemy in here along with us, plus Neuroi stirring shit up."

A Marine Corpsmen nods. "I'll go check his condition out." He hustles over to where Laymen and Zander were located and began performing some battlefield triage on their wounded man.

A Marine took a seat, looking shaken at seeing Neuroi laser fire for the first time. "Fuck man, I saw four of our guys get hit by those things. First they were there and then...just poof!"

"What the hell's a Neuroi?" Vaun asked James, looking absently at the city. It appeared as though he was at a loss.

"The Alien guys responsible for the lasers." James responds flatly. At this the other Fire Teams of Rangers and the Marines murmur and mutter under their breaths, a few of them commenting that they now had fallen into a demented wonderland. James looked questioningly to the Marines Sergeant. "So what should we do then Sergeant?"

The Marine that outranked James by two whole stripes still looked like a lost child in the middle of a crowded mall. "Erm... uh... we should... try and rally... um..." He clearly had no idea what to do, struggling to come up with orders. After a moment of shuddering he finally shrugs in defeat. "Fuck I don't know! I haven't trained for something like this, hell; none of us have trained for something like this!" Realization then hits him. "Wait a sec, you've dealt with this scenario before, right Private?"

James nods. "Yeah, well... a week's worth of experience at least." he admits.

"Hell, a week's worth of experience is better than my Two minutes and forty seconds worth any day. You have the most experience with this world and those...alien whatever their called's. Since you're the one with most experience with this sort of situation, I'm deferring to you for advisement Private: so what do you suggest we do."

James blinked for a moment, trying to take in the fact that even now a higher ranked NCO was deferring to him for advice. Unfortunately he knew he didn't have much time to think through that right now and tried to impart what little knowledge he gleaned while training in this world, starting first with the fact the Russian's are now in this world and what the American's would have to deal with. "For the Russians, well, business as usual for them, but also make sure you watch for civilians and make sure they are safe: they've likely never seen two human army's trading blows so they might end up gawking unless we get their heads down for them."

"And the Aliens?" One Ranger asked. Everyone traded brief murmurs with each other. They also wanted to know how to deal with the new threat that they had to face.

"On our own: we stay mobile and keep out of their effective range." he explained. "Avoid direct engagement: we go head to head and barrel to barrel up close with the Neuroi then we're fucking atoms. Unless we've got anti-armor weapons, HEAT rounds or incendiaries, maybe armor, artillery and air support then our small arms aren't going to do much, at least not in our hands. Anything bigger then the smallest of these guys we won't have enough ammo to kill, and even the bigger guys we won't make a dent in, even with armor, arty and air cover, or so we were told. Me and one of the guys that was portaled here from our world learned that if you want to survive in this world fighting Neuroi: then you get your ass behind the ass of a witch. They are the only real effective Neuroi countermeasure."

Corporal Fitz blinks. "A witch?"

"Little girls with big guns, animal ears and tails, planes and tanks on their legs and no pants" James wordlessly explained. "You can't miss em."

There was a long pause of silence at that. "Sounds like something the Japanese would have come up with." A Ranger groans, to which many of the Americans voiced their agreements. Clearly the imagery was to many of them a brain twister.

Carmen gestures eastwards. "We saw a pair of those girls chasing a couple of the aliens down that way. Ya think we can raise em on the Radio?"

James shrugged. "Well, they have intercoms, so yeah, providing we find the radio frequency they are on."

Vaun turned to the other American troops . "Then we do that, everyone set your headsets to different frequencies and try and send a message to these... erm... witches... so they know that were here and what the situation is." After receiving orders all the soldiers quickly start to sift through their radio channels and trying to raise the witches. For the next two minutes it's just an endless parade of mostly static.

Eventually Morgan nudges James and gestures at his comms. "Hey guys, I think I've got something: switch to 10.2." Upon switching to the radio frequency in question the fire teams are met with a sudden voice that James remembers very well.

"Roger that that Flight Lieutenant, the 501st and 78th will be there in under a minute." It was Shirley's voice. Hearing then Liberion girl's voice was refreshing.

Another voice, one he didn't recognize, responds. "Thank you for the assist Captain Yeager. However, Pattie and I have another problem besides the Neuroi: Angie was shot down by a Diomedia class a while ago and we haven't heard from her. She crash landed some place near the residential center of the city due west of our position. We need someone to go and help her!"

At this point Carmen had a sudden look of worry on her face, her hand quickly shot to her radio and she spoke. "Do you girls need some help?" she asked. Some of the Rangers and Marines had looks that ranged from perplexed to completely deadpan, a couple of them asking what she was doing.

Shirley's voice responds with confusion. "Huh? Is someone else out there? Could you identify yourself please?"

James got on the radio and began to transmit. "Hey, Shirley, it's James. I-"

Shirley cut him off in excitement. "James?! Well I'll be damned, your back here and kicking? You couldn't keep away now could ya?" A lot of the other girls also spoke with pleasant surprise over the comms channel. It sound like they were exited to hear the young ranger again, even despite it being unexpected.

"That's one way to put it. Good to talk with ya again Yeager."

Lucchini was ecstatic to hear the younger Ranger's voice. "Yay! James is back! Maybe now things will get fun around base again!" she said giddily.

James smiled at hearing the little Romangan over the radio channel. "Hey sport, how are you holding up?"

"Great! Now with you around here I'll get extra motivated to kick some Neuroi butt!"

James's smile soon faded and he got back to business. "Hey Shirley, we overheard that you girls got a witch in trouble somewhere in the city. We can try and help you out if you want." At this most of the Ranger's and Marines seemed to be less than thrilled about the prospect. James continued, however, giving Shirley a warning. "Listen though, you'll be having another problem besides Neuroi: I can't speak definitively on it but there's possibility around a company of Russian troops down here."

"Some help would be appreciated, but these Russian guys, are they hostile?" The Liberion asked.

"They should be handled as if they are, so where's your girl; we'll find her."

One of the Ranger's looked incredulously at James. "You want us to walk though this freaken place with a bunch of those alien things out and about?! Fuck that! I signed up to kill Russian's man, not to play out a scene out of a damn sci-fi movie!"

A Marine nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm with Ranger boy on this one. I'm not going to risk my ass getting lasered off by those fucking things."

Carmen shot an angry look at the Ranger and Marine in question. "What's the matter with you two?! Thiers no fucking way I'm going to leave some kid alone out here with Russian's and aliens breathing down her neck! Our job is to help people and that's what I intend to do; so fucking grow a pair and square your shit away!" Both men flinch back at Carmen's biting words, then deflate a little in shame. Carmen got on the radio again. "This is Carmen Ramirez of the 4th Marine Division. You tell us where your girl is at and we'll go get her for ya."

"Ramirez?" Shirley had a tone of surprise in her voice, probably from the fact that apparently James had a sibling. "Well, yeah that would be great actually. We'll try and clear up any Neuroi in this sector while you go get her. I'm not sure where they came from but they are look like they intend to do some damage. We won't let them."

"Roger that, we're Oscar Mike." Carmen looked to her fire team members who looked hesitant, for a minute, but seeing as Carmen was the Fireteam leader that they knew where this was going to go. "Waters, Keller, Kline, we're going to go save this girl before the bad guys find her. Any objections?" The three Marines exchange glances but remain silent for a moment. After the moment passes, the trio eventually give a response in the affirmative.

James gave his sister a pat on the shoulder. "My Team will come with you as well. We'll keep you covered, help get this girl to safety." He looked to Bossley, Sung and Summers and they gave a nervous nod. So far James was keeping them alive, so they knew he must have been doing something right. But James could see the fear in their eyes; he had to make sure that he brought these three men back home alive.

Morgan speaks with determined firmness. "Sandler, Grigsby, DeRidder and I will help cover you two and your teams."

Carmen smirks for a second then clenches her jaw, a fire burning in her eyes. "Then what the hell are we waiting for?! Let's get our asses in gear, Oorah?" Carmen is quickly on point with her her team following close behind her and Morgan's squad following suit.

James turns to Vaun and motions over to where the Marine Corpsman was treating Zander. "Zander will need some big help with his paralysis, Sergeant. Drop a line to the witches and ask for Yoshika Miyafuji; she'll be able to use her healing magic to help get him back in shape." James got to his feet and motioned to his team. "Let's go you guys."

As James started to head off after Morgan and Carmen's squads Vaun looked at James with raised eyebrows. "Wait, healing magic? What?!"

"Trust me, I've seen her in action. It may take some time but she can pull it off. We'll be alright, keep your powder dry in the meantime." With that, James lead his team to rescue the downed witch. Deep in his bones the stress of anticipating Neuroi combat was wracking him, but at least the girls he had come to respect had his six out here. It was only fair he'd watch theirs in return.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... <strong>

**Cryska...**

**Task Force 141 - Disavowed...**

**Undisclosed Location somewhere in Ethiopia, Africa...**** Two days prior to Darya's assignment to Duty Desk...**

**Status: Preparation's for upcoming mission taking place, all Task Force and Loyalist Personnel on standby...**

Today was turning out to be a good day. Cryska had managed to find some exceedingly beautiful girls to have fun with within the compound. Despite protests from most of the girls that she had gloped onto, and in the case of making an attempt with Kiza which actually resulted in her being chased around the safe house by a rather irate Russian soldier, Cryska did find two girls that she managed to have a good time with; one she managed to get to home plate with last night and today she and another girl dry humped in the halls until one of the senior NCO's stopped the fun. But overall she still felt like it was a good day; so long as she had the chance to be with a pretty girl in some way, shape or form then she believed it to be worth the trouble.

After walking through halls of the estate that served as the safe house the Russian woman entered the kitchen for a quick bite to eat and instead found a particular someone who managed to capture her heart. She saw that Yuna was sitting cross-legged in a chair at the kitchen table and eating from a bowl of what appeared to be rice, her back facing the Russian woman. The bluenette's attention was currently focused on her meal; a perfect opportunity. With a wide smile, Cryska slowly began to approach, silently moving into the kitchen, making sure she didn't make a sound. While approaching she noticed that Yuna had just finished the rice, set the bowl aside and began drinking a cup of green tea that was resting within reach of her. Cryska inched bit by bit forward as Yuna set the cup down, sighing in contentment. With her hands behind her back, Cryska managed to sneak her way directly behind Yuna and leaned forward.

As Cryska was planting a tender kiss upon Yuna's head the Ranger sniper spoke knowingly. "Yeah Cryska, can I help you?" she asked.

Cryska giggled as she finished kissing her love's head. "Ah, so you knew it was me? Your very good; I'm impressed."

Yuna scoffed. "Yeah, I could sense you coming from a mile off." she stated.

Cryska moved around the other girl and leaned forward on the kitchen table. "So you managed to hear me entering the room then? You must have exceptional hearing."

"Actually I could hardly hear a footstep from you moving through the kitchen, you have the feet of a fox."

She had a look of confusion on her face. "Really? Well if you couldn't hear me approaching how did you know it was me?" After a moment of thought a smile envelops her features. "Ah, it must have been the kiss then, I'm flattered that you could tell who I was from just a simple kiss."

Yuna lightly shook her head. "Naw, I knew it was you before the kiss." Cryska blinked and raised her eyebrows in surprise, clearly she was confused at this. The idea that Yuna knew it was her before even kissing her while being unable to hear her enter the room was something that she could not even begin to fathom. And yet... she was intrigued. The Japanese-American took notice of the fascinated look that was likely in Cryska's eye's and explained. "You have a certain... energy... that's unique to you. I could feel it coming up behind me and I was able to recognize it from when we both met each other a few days back. That's how I could tell."

"Fascinating!" Cryska had spoken with genuine, sincere amazement; with the advent of having met Gertrud: who was a witch from another world; she was willing to be open to the possibility that the Ranger's explanation was truthful. She promptly moved to the other side of the table directly across from the operator and rested her arms upon the table top. She wanted to speak to the blue haired Ranger, get to know the mind behind that beautiful face, body and hair, she figured that it may help in winning her dear Yuna's heart. "Please tell me: how is it that you've developed such an amazing skill, my love?"

Yuna thought on that for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, back when I was starting elementary school I read a book that talked about Buddhist theology and Daoism and one of the things they talked about was meditation and the benefits it had. I sort of liked the idea of sharpening the mind, developing the spirit, and when I got older I just got more into the whole idea. I started meditating at a young age and I've been at it ever since. So far it feels like it has worked for me; it feels like I have been sort of growing and developing on some level, ya know?"

"Ah, I see. I can tell that it provided you with great benefits, it's quite clear to see in my opinion." Cryska then studied the Ranger for a moment. "I don't think I've asked, but I have been wondering: you said you were a Ranger? Was there any reason as to why you would want to apply for such a role? I'm a little curious."

Yuna gave a smile. "Well, I wanted to do more then find a cushy job in civilian life: to be honest in my teen years I was bit of a nonconformist; whatever was considered the norm in high school I wanted nothing to do with. Swam against the current of the river so to speak. Not to mention that applied to my home and family life for that matter. I wanted to try and find who I was, so I tried to figure myself out." After a pause she makes a deadpan amendment. "Operative word being _tried._ My parents, some of my teachers and my assorted classmates and peers had a field day with my sorry ass, but hey: what can you do right? Just had to worry about what I could control, not what I couldn't."

Cryska nods with a passive look "That's a healthy way of dealing with such challenges."

She waved it off. "Yeah, but it's all good: I took an interest in military life while I was in high school. I got so interested in that sort of life that I bought a copy of the Art of War and read it front to back every moment I got, spent a lot of nights up late reading each chapter. Once I turned 17 I enlisted with parental consent. From their I got into Ranger school and... well... here I am." Yuna reaches for her cup and drank the rest of her tea, she sighs contently before continuing. "When I joined up in the Military I wanted to do something that helped people. I wanted to become a part of something and fight for something that was bigger than just me and whatever microcosm I was in. Whatever knowledge and skill I had or developed I'd use em to do my job and to not only do it well; but to do good. To take evil out of the world and put good back into it, and to do so with an enlightened mind and an awareness of myself, my surroundings, the world around me and the people living in it. And when it comes to sniping, well; it's my art. My craft. My trade. And I intend to set the highest standard performing it."

Cryska's mouth was agape, looking awe struck at Yuna. She found the Ranger to be beyond fascinating. In complete honesty on Cryska's part, she had initially fallen in love with Yuna because of her physical beauty. From the Japanese woman's tan, well toned skin, to the smile that she wore on her face. Her body was a cute, slim form. Her breasts may have been around a B-cup in size but the few times she groped them Cryska found them to be quite soft and of perfect shape. And it wasn't the only place that was soft for that matter, even though Yuna often batted away Cryska's hands from her beautiful body. By far the best feature of her beloved Ranger on a purely physical aspect was the blue hair: a part of her was still amazed by the fact that Yuna's hair really and truly was blue, not a dye that would wash out in the shower. Her hair was stunning, breath taking, and unique.

But now, after sitting down and talking with her, Cryska found that the women she had fallen head over heels for possessed more than physical beauty: after hearing of how Yuna viewed herself and the world around her, and what motivated her in her life Cryska fell in love with the beautiful heart, mind and soul that lay within the stunning body of this proverbial goddess of war. She decided that the women she sat before was deserving of even greater love and pleasure that was owed. A women like this: must be "Romanced".

She slowly reached for Yuna's hands and took them tenderly in her grasp. A loving look then filled her eyes and she gazed upon the blunnette Ranger. "Yuna, truly you are a woman of wonders; you posses beauty from without and from within." Yuna blinked in surprise, as if unsure as to what to make of this sudden declaration, but what thoughts had likely to have began to form in her mind were seemingly instantly banished when Cryska kissed Yuna once more on her forehead. "I promise my love; from now on you shall receive more than simply heavy touching." the purple eyed Russian said with a warm smile.

Yuna seemed to turn pale for a moment in slight horror, then her face shifted to a flat deadpan. "You're not going to rape me, are you?" she asked flatly.

"Oh, of course not: perish the thought! I would never dream of doing something that hurt the apple of my eye." Cryska insists, then spoke with sincere warmness. "Nay, I intend to treat you as a goddess, my love. I seek to show the women I intend to marry that I shall be a faithful, devoted lover to her. I swear this upon my very life!" Yuna blinked again, but this time her mouth slackened, and to Cryska's amusement a light blushed appeared on her face.

Cryska giggled in seductive amusement. "You look so cute when you're flustered, my love. I hope I get to see more of such a cute face."

Yuna rubbed her forehead a little bit with a perplexed look on her features. She then looked to the Russian apologetically. "L-look, Cryska. I know you mean everything you said, and again I'm flattered... but really; I'm straight. I'm just... not interested in girls like that, and I don't want to see you try and work so hard on a fruitless, romantic venture."

Cryska simply laughed. "Nonsense, you just don't know any better yet, but soon you'll see. I can understand women who are attracted only to other women and I can understand women who are attracted to both women and men, much like myself... " After a pause she then adds. "Although I _prefer_ women; every once in a while a man is nice to bed with but I just like women more: they are so soft and know all the right places to touch in just the right way... but with all that in mind, I can't understand the reasoning of women who limit themselves to only men. Why limit yourself to only one gender solely for the sake of an arbitrary norm. Besides: women know best how to please other women. It's not a man's fault if they struggle with pleasing a women, but really it's a case of simple anatomy. I know that men try hard, but only a woman knows best how to make other girls feel good."

"Is that so?" Yuna asked evenly.

The silver haired sniper nods. "I told Kiza as such when we crossed paths and she explained why she chased after men with big muscles." She smiled with a look of pride. "I told her that I preferred the soft, tender embrace of a women. I tried to convince her to spend the night with me and experiment, but to say she wasn't open to the proposition would be an understatement. It's a shame; she is a tough but still very pretty looking girl. She must have been brought up in a very strict, conservative household. It is such a shame really."

Yuna cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "Wait... you say you want to make me your wife, yet you chase after other girls to have make out sessions with them. You mind explaining that logic to me: because I think I'm missing something here."

Cryska fidgeted a little with her hands, her mouth shifting a little."Well, there are many pretty girls in the world, and I feel that many have been brought up with the closed-minded notion that they should only be romantically interested in men, but in truth a woman doesn't have to be limited by one choice in terms of a partners gender; she has the power of choice to find love in women too. And I feel that I have a duty to show them this truth." Cryska's smile then shone once more, the loving look returning to her eyes. "But when it comes to the person who I wish to spend the rest of my life together with: I wish for it to be you, Yuna."

Yuna seemed to take this in for a moment. The fact that Cryska was hopelessly infatuated with her was likely something that she muddled around with in her mind in confusion, aside from taking in Cryska's reasons for chasing every pretty girl she saw. But to the Russian snipers excitement Yuna wore a smile. "Well as far as ideology's go it's an interesting concept. Way I see it if you find something that brings you happiness and it doesn't hurt anyone then I have no problems with it. If that's what you believe; then more power to you." She then quickly added. "Unfortunately I still might be one of those whom you can discount. I may support the cause of equality for all as well as challenging social norms and tradition, but I just know what I'm looking for in terms of a life partner." She then chuckled. "Though to be honest I'd rather let whatever relationship I have develop over time. Why rush and stress out over stuff in relationships; I'd rather take it easy. Not sweat the small stuff."

Cryska blinked for a moment at a sudden realization of Yuna's character: deep down the apple of her eye was _incredibly_ laidback. Apparently, even if it were an easier scenario with Yuna confessing she did like girls, then she still may have to work all the harder for Yuna's heart; the blue haired Ranger was a women who went things at her own pace; calm, leisurely and somewhat slowly. While her initiative in combat was exemplary in her snap, decisive and immediate decisions, her initiative in her personal life was the complete inverse in comparison. But even with this knowledge gleamed, Cryska wasn't discouraged; this just meant that her success of winning her beloved Ranger's heart would be all the sweeter.

Cryska was positively giddy. Yuna was going to be one of her greatest, romantic challenges. "Ah, very well my dear Ranger. But my oath still stands; I promise that my heart shall be yours and your heart mine. Tis only a matter of time, my love." Despite the amused look of perplexity on Yuna's face as she could only shake her head in disbelief, Cryska knew that if she only took the time, effort, and used just the right romantic touch then she knew that Yuna would eventually come around. A woman like Yuna...such a beautiful woman like her was one that Cryska did not want to have slip through her fingers.

Yuna then had a thoughtful look on her face as she studied the purple eyed Russian. "I gotta say; your one heck of a girl, Cryska: I can't get a solid bead on you as a person in general." But then her mouth hooked into a slight smirk. "But as a sniper I have to say: you're good. Damn good. With the basics you really do have a gift."

To hear such praise of her sniping skills made her glow with pride. "I'm glad that you approve of my skill, my dear Ranger. But you, Yuna: you're Michelangelo with a rifle. Poetry in motion. A thunderstorm on the battlefield. I only hope that my skills may someday reach the plateau you stand upon." She could see her beloved Yuna's face give off a almost faint glow of subtle pride. Cryska couldn't help but feel grateful that she had met with the Ranger. She knew deep in her heart that her beloved will come around in due time.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Gary "Roach" Sanderson...<strong>

Life is challenging...

This is an inescapable fact, though many would argue just how challenging it could be. The level of each challenge in life varies but Roach found that compared to soldiering duties that trying to learn the ways of Romancing Yuna to be _the_ most challenging obstacle in his life. Back in high school he had crushes on certain girls that he wanted to go on dates with, but the fact he was shaky in trying to approach and win them over resulting in him striking out with them. Now in adult hood his skills haven't much improved by any margin. By now he knew he needed knowledge, and there was only one way he would attain it: research. Much like his formative years, he would once again need to hit the books. For a girl like Yuna, busting his hump would be worth it if it meant he had a shot with his battle sister in arms.

While reading the book that came in a couple days ago the door swings open and Toad enters while using crutches, his foot and lower leg in a cast. The former Marine Sniper slowly makes his way to a nearby sofa, sitting down and groaning mildly. After setting aside his crutches, he sets his wounded leg up on the sofa and lays down, trying to keep off his foot.

Toad groaned. "Well, I'm out of action for a while. Had to see the doc about getting something to take the pain off a little." He dug into his pants pocket and dug out a container of pills. He holds the container up and gives it a light shake, causing the pills inside to rattle around. "I'll have to take two more of these in five hours."

Roach continues reading but responds while he does so. "How long did he say until you heal up?" he asked.

"A couple months, providing I stay off my foot and prevent aggravating my injury. Until then I'm not going out in the field again, apparently." Toad sighs, returning the container of pills to one of his pockets. "You know, this really sucks; it feels like I'm not being useful."

Roach shrugs and turns the page of his book. "A wounds a wound. Unless you take time to heal then you'll end up not being able to do much."

Toad considers this. "I guess that's true." he allows. When he looks over at Roach again he notices the book he was reading. He peered at the book and tilted his head. "Dude, are you reading Dating for dummies?"

Roach pauses, looking up from his book with a guarded expression. After a long pause he responds. "Maybe..."

Toad wears a sly expression on his face. "Oh, you're going to put some moves on a girl then, huh? Who's the lucky lady your vying for?"

"Well... that is to say..." He became a little hesitant to respond, but manages to provide vague answer. "I guess it can be said that it's someone that I feel close to, ya know."

The American operator seemed perplexed for a moment at the response, but after a minute of mulling over his thoughts he had a look of realization. "Dude: it's Yuna, isn't it?"

Roach looks up from his book and at Toad in surprise. "W-wait a minute... what? How do you know?" he asked.

Toad sat up with a wide grin. "She's the only logical answer: You've both known each other for just about four years, and is the only girl I've seen you look comfortable being around for any length of time. About fucking time you tried making a move. I'm glad to see you finally worked up the courage to try and win her heart."

"Well that... and apparently I've got some competition in that regard."

"You mean some schlub is trying to put some moves on Scope?" Toad sounded concerned at this news, like a brother worried about a siblings well being.

Roach looked at Toad and raised an eyebrow. "Never said it was a guy. You don't need me to tell you about a certain purple eyed sniper girl trying to get into the combat pants of every bloody member of the female personnel we're working with."

Toad's eyes widen with a look of shock, his eyebrows rising. "You mean... Cryska?!" However, upon the words leaving his mouth Toad's face dulled. "Wait: why the hell am I even surprised by that? Hell, she was about to start the horizontal mambo with her before you, Soap and Ghost stopped that nutty hedonist." A relieved smile then crossed him. "Ah, well, you've still got a chance by a mile; it's probably not going to be anything serious anyways."

Roach lowered his book to his lap. "Don't be so sure: Cryska said she plans to marry Yuna."

Toad suddenly took an odd, dismissive tone in response."I know: I heard her say something like that, but I'm sure she's just saying that. Seeing some of the stuff she does with other girls, she probably isn't serious when she said it."

Something about what Toad had said and how he said it rubbed the British Sergeant the wrong way for a couple of reasons. Roach's face turned intense and he spoke sternly. "Okay first off: she's dead serious; she told me so herself when I took her aside after she molested Yuna a while back. On top of that, even when she is chasing after other women the second she spots Yuna she is attracted to her like a bloody magnet and ignores every other girl within line of sight. Secondly: well... it's the 21st century mate. Despite what you or anyone else may think; people can get married to someone of the same gender; which means that girls can marry other girls: it's a thing now, and it isn't going away anytime soon."

Toad seemed a bit stunned for a moment, but then seemed to turn a little reserved. "I know, I know... sorry, it's just something that's, well, weird to me and I don't understand it."

Roach recalled a conversation he and Toad had while they were lightly buzzed while on leave for a weak a few years back; the two men swapping life stories with each other as well as Archer, Ozone, Scarecrow and Worm to pass the time, may the four operators rest in peace. "You said once that your parents really didn't like this one friend you brought over to hang out with? What's the difference now?"

"Nothing really... I just...well..." Toad became thoughtful and tried to explain just what compelled him to say what he said, abridging the conversation he had with Roach and the others a while back. "Yeah, this buddy of mine and I were friends since elementary school, but even after hitting high school and he came out of the closet... as hard as my parents tried to make me think that him being that way was wrong; I never saw him as wrong, or bad or any of that shit. I just saw my friend, nothing more or less. Might not have understood it, may have been a little weird to me, but aside from that he was still the same guy I bummed around the playground with." Toad sighed. "I dunno, I guess I still find some part of it weird that somebody would like someone who's of the same gender."

Roach's mouth hooked into a brief frown at this. To Roach stuff like that was a trivial nonissue, although he figured his progressive upbringing helped somewhat in shaping his perceptions. Roach knew that Toad wasn't like most of those who held to faith, who often times had a great amount of anonymity if not outright hostility towards people who were LGBT; in that regard Toad held no hate in his heart for people like that. But even while being a person of Moderate faith, it was apparent that Toad often hit what Roach called "the god ceiling" at times. "I don't find it weird: you love who you love dude. It's a matter between those two people only and isn't anybody's business besides said two people. You and I like girls, and apparently so does Cryska. But, more to the point; she likes Yuna."

Toad cocked his eyebrow in confusion. "Isn't Yuna straight though?"

"As far as I know, but call me cautious. If I intend to be a part of Yuna's life like that then I damned well get my ass in gear and get some knowledge in romancing her."

"Hey, I can help if you want." Toad offered sincerely.

Roach blinked as his battle brother offered to help him. "Really? Have you dated before?"

"A little bit. Had a few dates when I was in high school so I picked up a thing or two. I figure you could get a little extra help instead of just trying to absorb a book." He then grinned cheekily. "Besides, you and Yuna would make a good couple. A weird couple, maybe, but a good couple never the less. Find that loven feeling, get married, have some kids together; it's just meant to be."

"Oh yeah?" Roach asked. After taking a moment to think on this he then ventures a question. "Alright, what would you recommend I do first then?"

"Okay, sweet! Now listen man, you first have to start with the basics: firstly-" Before Toad could continue a set of heavy footsteps approach. Yuri appears at the door of the room and enters, wearing a towel, carrying a bottle of what appeared to be shampoo and a dripping wet. His buzz cut shaved head had a strange substance on his skull that seemed a bit off to be a normal hair cleaning product.

The Russian man was wearing a firm, flat look. "Excuse me, comrades. I was wondering if you both might be able to help me with something? I was just having my shower when something came up that I might need help in figuring out"

Roach slowly and silently went back to reading his book, flipping the page to the part on trying to date girls in their early twenties. Toad cocks his head questioningly. "Sure thing, what can we help ya with?" The Marine Sniper asks.

Yuri held up his bottle of shampoo with motions with it, moving behind Roach as he does so. "I was wondering if either one of you could tell me who was responsible for putting maple syrup in my shampoo bottle?" he demands.

Both Roach and Toad exchanged a brief glance with one another, an unspoken exchange occurring between the two men. Roach gave a momentary smirk that hooked at the corner of his mouth, then returned to a passive expression. Toad proceeded to adopt a poker face as he responds. "Maple syrup? I honestly have no idea."

Roach tries to keep his laugher in. "Yeah mate, no idea."

Yuri's eyes shift over to Roach. "Oh really? No idea? Are you sure about that, because I have heard word from the others that involved certain incidents; the first involving Andrei receiving black rings of face paint around his eyes, transferred from a pair of binoculars, then the entire men's barracks having their beds short sheeted four nights in a row, a bucket of water over the door of Zazar's room that fell upon his head, and someone putting a rubber snake in the beds of one of the female personnel."

"Sounds like you've got a practical joker on your hands." Roach says with amusement. "These many pranks makes you wonder who it could be."

"Yes... although I believe the file of the guilty party in question and the fact Andrie told me that he got the black circles over his eyes after talking to you, I was able to piece the puzzle together." Roaches face shifts from amusement to a flat, foreboding look. Yuri proceeds to overturn the sticky contents of the shampoo bottle on Gary's head, the sticky liquid proceeds to ooze down from his hair down his face and onto his t-shirt. As this is happening Toad is struggling to hold back his laughing, but is failing at it, despite the fact Yuri was shooting a piercing glare at him. Once the bottle's contents have been emptied Yuri gazed firmly at the Sergeant. "That is enough pranks, Sergeant. We tire of your disruptions. And Toad, the next time you speak falsehoods; you'll get what he gets." The Russian man the proceeds to exit the room while muttering something in Russian under his breath, leaving both Task Force Operators alone.

"Damn, he was fucking pissed man." Toad was in stitches by the time Yuri left them alone. "Ah man dude, this is a fucking Kodak moment: don't move, let me get my I-pone." Toad quickly digs out his phone and proceeds to take a photo of his sticky battle brother. "This is almost as good as that time you ran Worms underwear up the flag pole back at Firebase Phoenix."

Roach slowly wipes syrup off his face with one of his hands, musing over the sudden turn of events. "Huh... that's new: I got found out a whole 2 weeks and a half ahead of schedule. He's good."

Toad chuckles. "So, was it worth it?"

Gary Sanderson, the Roach of the 141, set his book on the table, gave a brief smirk then stood up. "Yup. Now hold that thought you had for a minute; I gotta go wash this shit out of my hair."

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Gertrud Barkhorn...<strong>

The targets downrange were waiting for her, patiently standing their post as Trudy was preparing to drill with the weapons that the Task Force had acquired. Three tables with three weapons and three magazines each. Each weapon would be one she would train with. She had acquired new solider skills over the past month that she hadn't even been able to conceive of before, now she had to hone these news skills and pieces of knowledge; it was only reasonable for a solider of Karlsland to train like this. She was a solider of discipline after all, no matter where she was. With her familiar appearing she took hold of the first weapon: an M4A1. She took the three magazines and placed them into the pouches of her rigging. Thoughts of her homeland, her sister and her unit came to her mind as she loaded the first magazine into the carbine, but she sought to banish these thoughts until after she was done shooting.

Another thought that came to her was the events of the night before. Thinking back to how she confessed her feelings to Ghost felt surreal and felt like it was a good thing to do on some level, but the idea of acting so quickly on this made her quite nervous and felt like a rash decision. Thankfully, the choice to take things slow for now with the Lieutenant to Trudy felt like the right one. She didn't need to rush, nor should she. Until she fully sorted thought these conflicting, turbulent emotions she was feeling, then she would tread carefully. The last thing she wanted was do something careless and hurt either solider. That was the last thing Trudy wanted. This felt like the right decision to make...

Sighting her target she proceeded to fire at the target until the weapon ran dry. With the weapon set to semi-automatic firing she depressed the trigger once... twice... three times... four... five. This continued until the weapon clicked empty. Recalling of a technique that Ghost had taught her she decided to implement what he called: "the Tactical reload". With a roll of her hand and a depression of the magazine release the spent mag was ejected from the magazine well and onto the ground, while at the same time this happened Tudy reached for a fresh mag from her chest rig and slapped it in. With a quick tap to the side of the weapon and pulling back on the charging handle she continued to fire the rifle. This went on for a while and the reloading process repeated until she was completely out of rounds. She had struggled at first with this style of reloading for a while; today was the first time that she managed to get it without any major problems with feeding the magazine into the weapon, but her reloading was still on the slow side. She would have to continue training in that regard.

Setting aside the M4A1 she approached the next table where the MK46 lay. It was currently unloaded; first she would conduct a speed loading exercise, then fire the weapon. However, while doing so she found herself thinking back to her squad. More specifically, she thought back to her squad mates. As she began to load the Machinegun her thoughts started to turn to each of the girls of the 501st. She really did miss them. But much to her surprise, she found her thoughts lingering a lot longer on two witches in particular. When Erica and Shirley's faces entered her mind she found her heart strain painfully. She started to wonder why this was...

_Why am I thinking about those two at a time like this? I should be focusing on my training, I should be putting my attention towards my discipline. _At thinking this she found she wasn't able to banish these thoughts of her two squad mates completely. When it came to Shirley she found her facing turning a bit warm, while she mused over her thoughts in confusion. _Yeager. My rival squad mate. That Laidback Liberion and I have always competed with each other. I sought to push myself in my soldiering duties, and Shirley pushed herself in her desire for speed. That's the only things we have remotely in common; pushing our limits, in everything else we butt heads with each other. Could never stand that she took everything so damn casually. She's as carefree as Lucchini. We both share the same rank for crying out loud; she should be showing far more responsibility!_

Trudy found that the MK46 was taking far too long than normal to load, probably because her thoughts were currently elsewhere. Growling lightly she finally loaded the weapon and sighted her target. She proceeds to fire short sustained bursts into the target downrange. The weapon thudded repeatedly into her shoulder, though thanks to her magic it wasn't even noticeable; even less so then when she used her MG42' the weapon ran dry and her target was cut clean in two, she found herself gazing at the target for a bit, her weapon lowered as her thoughts of her rival continued to swim in her mind.

_Well...she never gets stressed about small matters, that's good a quality... I guess... but I still worry about her as a fellow officer. Will she be able to handle things if Mio and Minna are not on base? Will my not being their distract her or bother the girls so much that she is faced with a greater challenge in maintaining unit cohesion and moral. I just... I just don't know... I hope she can handle things alright... _Her face then took a deep blush she recalled the whole jet striker incident and the fact that Shirley managed to save her when she passed out and the unit lost control. _T-that time. She did an amazing job when things got that bad. I really do owe her for that. Especially when I was acting so brash and carelessly. _Recalling the conversation that was exchanged Trudy felt guilt at the errant, poorly used and hurtful words that she directed at Shirley and how the Liberion girl was so worried for her well being. _I... I really did worry her... I don't think I ever saw her that upset before..._

Setting aside the LMG she moved on to the M32 MGL. She slowly picked up the weapon as her thoughts then went to Hartman, her squad mate and fellow Karlslanders carefree smile filled her mind, sighing inwardly as she did. _Frau... always the slacker. I have to bust my tail trying to keep her in shape, drill some much needed discipline into her .But she... I know a good solider lies inside her but her laziness off the field hinders her. I shudder to think what's happening without me there to motivate her: I'd hate to see all that skill and potential squandered... _Trudy found that the M32 was in her hands, the cylinder already swung out and a 40mm grenade in on hand: having been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't noticed that her body was acting on some form of instinct. But the more she thought of Erica the less she felt motivated to continue training. She sighed heavily. _Frau I really hope you're not too lax while I'm gone. I know that if you made the effort... that you'd make our country proud..._

A realization came to her as she set aside the M32 and the 40mm shell, turned around and reclined against the table. _The two of them are by far the most frustrating people I have ever had to work within my military career when we're on our own time. It's beyond me how they can do so well in combat but have no discipline in their personal lives... so why do I miss those two this much? _She folded her arms and closed her eyes, her mouth hooking into a frown. She wasn't sure why she was thinking of the two girls that were supposedly a chore for her to deal with, and yet she felt had left a important impact in her life just by being there. They were troublesome comrades at times, but they were in the end dependable friends. _But I can still rely on them when push came to shove, after all's said and done._ The sudden pain she felt in her heart before returned again. And for the life of her, she didn't know why. _Why does thinking about them trying to get by without me hurt so much?_ She wondered. _Why do I feel this way?_

It was a question that she would ponder for a while. But the realization as to why wouldn't come until much later...

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Flying Officer Angela Salas Larrazabal...<strong>

**Affiliation... 504th Joint fighter Wing Ardor Witches...**

**Location...****Romagna... East of the Venezia-** **Romagna border, residential district...**

Angie couldn't believe the situation she found herself in: she was downed near the residential portions of the city and close to the outskirts. The crash landing banged her up and her left striker unit had been not simply damaged but outright destroyed in the crash, her upper thigh had been stuck with a piece of wood that she took from crashing through the wooden walls, and some glass from a window had caught her in her thigh. The building she impacted apparently served as a sort of mass housing, but it was heavily damaged by Neuroi laser fire. She sat upright in the building her head mildly concussed, and her bleeding leg was throbbing heavily. She cursed herself for her recklessness. Now she had to play the waiting game. Hopefully before Neuroi showed up.

She got on her intercom and sent a transmission. "This is Flying Officer Angela Salas Larrazabal. I am currently held up inside a heavily damaged mass housing complex. I'm wounded and I can't move so well, is there anybody close by to my position?"

Quite suddenly gunfire sounded off in the distance, with some voiced that sounded vaguely Orussian. The gunfire didn't sound familiar to her but she then heard a reply, with the sound of the exact same gunfire she's hearing in the back ground.

"Stand by Flying Officer, you've got help coming. We're just two blocks away from you, just hold out till we get there." The voice was that of a women, one who sounded quite strong and determined.

Another voice spoke up, this time that of a young sounding man. "Be advised, if you hear a set of Orussian voices they are confirmed hostile. Don't let them know your there, and if they do, take measures to defend yourself. We will be there for you in less than five mikes. Out."

This was confusing to the Hispanian: Orussians? Hostile? Defend herself against them? She didn't really understand. Any line of questioning in her mind ends when a laser like cartage blast takes away while little of the wall of the building she's in. She flinches, then turns to see the source of the laser fire. It's then she sees a shape that makes her body tense up and her blood run cold. It was roughly around four times the size of a standard military tank. The body was around 20 metres wide in all four directions – the legs were each around 10 metres long. And Angie noticed the plume of black smoke billowing out from beneath it: Miasma.

This was the dreaded Ballista class Neuroi; a type of mobile artillery that utilized miasma for protection and control.

Around the unit were a squad of large, machine like bipedal beings that didn't look even remotely human . A type of infantry class with seven foot tall bodies. They continued to advance from out of the Miasma cloud. Angie knew that both she and the fast approaching rescue squad was going to be in trouble. She had to ensure it was safe for the approaching rescue squad to take her out of the area. Her training took over: she aimed at one of the infantry type Neuroi and fired a shot. The magically enhanced anti-tank round found it's mark, the Neuroi infantry class exploding brilliantly, its core destroyed. This unfortunately drew attention of the other Neuroi. Angie prepared herself and sighted her next target.

She would be damned before she let these damned Neuroi get their way...

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking...Private Carmen Ramirez...<strong>

**Affiliation**... **United States Marines, 4th Marine Division,**** Fire Team-5...**

**Location...Romagna... East of the Venezia-** **Romagna border...**

**Status: Two days prior to Darya's assignment to Duty Desk; 1 hour and fifteen minutes after rune transportation from New York... converging on ****Angela's crash site. Russian squads encountered, engaging...**

"Enemy riflemen, right side by the pillars!" Sandler calls out enemy targets that have taken cover down range of the three American fire teams, taking cover by some archaic Romanian style architecture. Russian small arms fire rake the building that the squad had taken cover in: a small cafe. People indigenous to this world were staring slack jawed at what they were seeing: they had never before witnessed two human forces exchanging fire with each other. They were all standing in the cafe or sitting in their seats, unable to process what was going on. They seemed as if they were statues, frozen in place.

Carmen cursed that they weren't ducking in cover. "What the hell are you all doing?! Get down and take cover." she demands. A nearby cafe patron that was amongst those standing on the floor she promptly yanked by his arm to the floor. "GET THE FUCK DOWN!" She had seen civvies freeze momentarily but not for a full twenty seconds.

An errant round from Russian small arms fire caught a cafe bus boy in the head, a red plume of mist exiting the back of his head and his head pitching back, soon followed with his body falling onto the floor. This seemed to snap everyone out of their slack jawed trance and quickly everyone dove for the floor, covering their heads and crying out in panic. Carmen felt a ripple of anguish course through her at seeing an innocent getting cut down. What soon followed was rage. She was going to make sure that this stranger from a world that was not her own was avenged; undeserving of being caught up in her worlds bullshit.

Morgan cursed after taking a gaze at the killed civilian. "God damn..." he looked to James who took cover by an overturned table with Sung crouched right next to him. "Hey James lets go get these bastards? You up for that?"

James nods. "Yeah, I've got an idea." He turns to Carmen and points to her. "Hey sis, I need you with me for this alright, we're going to get up close to these guys, alright?"

"Oorah, brother." came her prompt response. She didn't even need asking. For her brother she'd kick the ass of any bastard that got in their way. Now was no different. She turned to her fire team. "Waters, Keller, Kline, stay on my ass, you copy?" She gets replies in the affirmative.

"Hey, are you two going to be okay going out there by yourselves? Waters asks with some concern in her voice.

"I'll just take Bossley and Sung with me. The rest of you guys just hold back here and cover us. And be sure you keep these civvies safe." James responds. He turns to his two squad mates and then to Carmen's fire team. "Alright, let's go!"

Carmen and her brother charge out of the cafe and into the street. Upon doing so gunfire from both their comrades and the enemy is exchanged. They approach the enemy position by way of bounding from cover to cover as bullets wiz by them. Carmen takes cover by a civilian vehicle as Russian small arms fire start to stitch their way into the metal body, the tires of the car bursting. She turns to see James take cover by the side of a building.

"Carmen, give me some suppressing fire!" he calls out to her.

"Roger!" She sites her target down range at the Russian position by the fountain and pillars that the Russians had taken cover in. As she keeps their heads down James bounds from the building and moves up to a low wall some twenty meters from the Russian position. She can see him take a quick gaze over the side at the Russians, then rests with his back against his cover just as incoming fire blasts into his position. He brought his M4A1 upright and brought the front of his weapon up and over his cover.

As Carmen continued to give her brother cover fire she watched as he proceeded to blind-fire the under barrel M203. The 40mm Grenade shell slammed into one of the pillars, weakening the stone. The pillar pitched its way onto the Russian's that had taken cover in their position, the men getting crushed to death or pinned beneath rubble. James then proceeded to advance and then finished off any Russian's that weren't killed.

"Alright, hostiles are down. We're clear!" James reports, reloading a fresh magazine and 40mm shell into his weapon.

"Damn good hit, dude." Sung complements.

Bossley scoffs. "More like lucky if you ask me."

"Lucky or not, we better get the lead out." Carmen reloaded her boxmag which at this point out of ammunition, replacing it with a fresh one. It wasn't long before everyone regrouped at the fountain, it Morgan, his fire team and the others joining them. They proceeded down the road to the building that Angie was apparently in. When they got within a forty feet of the target building Carmen motions to a nearby hotel. "You guys take cover here and cover me while I head in. Kline, you're on me, okay, I might need some backup, Oorah?"

Kline nods. "Yeah, no problem, I'll cover you."

James looks over to Morgan. "Get your 240 on the second floor along with Keller and Summers." He looked back over to his sister. "You be careful alright? And remember, if you see the Neuroi: don't pull any of that "take me to your leader" bullshit. It's won't take."

Carmen rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, say's the funny man, I get it. Kline, let's go, stay on my ass." She the moves with Kline following close behind her, the rest of the fire teams taking cover in the hotel. She started to feel that maybe things would go smoothly from this point on but upon getting half way to the ruined building there was something that entered her ears.

First was the sound of a buildings wall being smashed by a Russian tank, followed by its booming report. An explosion from behind her knocked her off her feet, her body sliding a couple meters. The explosion knocked the wind out of her and made her ears ring but otherwise she felt like she was okay. Suddenly something bounced off the helmet that rested atop her head and landed in front of her. In that moment she found herself face to face with the disembodied head of Private Kline. Her eyes locked on her former squad mates head as her stomach promptly twisted itself into knots. It was then she regretted asking him to join her. Her decision to bring him along has cost him his life. His death was on her shoulders.

"Shit! Kline's KIA!" Waters cries out over the comms.

James's voice cries out. "Carmen! Are you alright?!"

"I'm alive..." she responds matter-of-factly. Carmen turned to see the tank straight ahead of her with a squad of Russian's pouring out of the building behind it. They were charging right in her direction, likely to try and take her life, just like they did Kline.

However, the next thing she heard was a loud, monstrous screech that made her wince and the Russian's stagger in mid-stride. What followed next was a flash of light that engulfed the tank. and a few men next to it. The rest of the Russian squad was disoriented by this. Carmen quickly got to her feet and continued to press towards the ruined building. However she had three Russian's following some twenty feet behind her as she entered the structure. As she entered she could hear the sound of a large bore rifle discharge from somewhere inside. Figuring it was the witch she double-timed down the darkened hall. Another discharge went off, this time closer than before. She saw a room at the end of the hall, while at the same time hearing foot steps behind her and yelling in Russian.

At this point she announced her presence to the downed witch. "Friendly coming i-" before she could finnish her sentence she saw a large seven foot tall metal monster mount a ruined wall of the heavily damaged room. It's large, polyhedron shaped head and large arms and even its entire body were black as midnight. The very sight of this... thing... startled the Marine, trying to skid to a halt as the metal figure raised an arm, its hand glowing and pointed right at her. "HOLY SHIT!" she purposely fell backward, in anticipation of the incoming attack.

The Russian voices that cried out from behind her were silenced by the beam discharged by a laser shot by the alien monster, a wet meaty sound going off at her six. The laser had just came mere inches from Carmen's head. Her M249 was still pointed directly at the extra terrestrial enemy and she promptly returned fire, not letting go of the trigger, the weapon staggering her target as it bleated in protest. A large boom sounded and the monster exploded in a brilliant shower of shards.

She then heard a voice just around the corner of the doorframe. "Who's there?!"

Carmen took a second to catch her breath as she stood up and moved into the room. "Ho, shit, that was close." she gathered herself and identified who she was. "Carmen Ramirez, I came to get you out of..." when she entered the room she saw the girl she came to rescue. The girls face was striking to Carmen. She could see in this girls amber eyes that she was a tough mamacita. Her uniform was black with a red undershirt and matching red panties. But the overall image wouldn't have been complete without the girl having the ears and tail of an animal of some kind, the two propeller machines that she saw that one red haired girl wear that one time, added to the fact she was carrying a Panzerbüchse 39. It truly was a sight. "...here." she finished in flat surprise. The most important thing Carmen noticed, however, was the girls wounds; the eighteen year old girl was bleeding through her uniform.

When the girl looked at Carmen she seemed to have a look of stunned surprise, although for the life of her the Marine didn't know why. The girl blinked and then spoke sternly. "You have to get out of here; you're in danger if you stay here. I may have killed all the infantry class Neuroi but there's still a Ballista class left and it's releasing Miasma. You have to leave!"

"Not without you I'm not, you need medical treatment." Carmen put in.

The girls eyes narrowed. "The Miasma will kill you, you idiot, trust me for a mundane person it's a bad way to go." the girl gestured in the direction of the hole that the Neuroi infantry unit was killed, and as plain as day, Carmen could see a large, walker like artillery tank alien that released a large black cloud. That was ominous. Even more ominous was the sounds of more Russian voices coming from behind her. Carmen took up a defensive position at the doorframe and aimed down the hall, also getting to see the hall splattered with blood, save for a Russian corpse some distance down the hall with a neat hole punched into his torso, the smell of burnt flesh sizzling.

"That's not the only problem we've got. Bad guys from my world are coming for us too." she explained.

"Another enemy?" The girls questioned.

"Yeah, Russian's. Bastards invaded my country, and they followed some of my guys here." She looked to the girl with a questioning look, and saw that the girl was confused for a moment. But the young girl's face then hardened as she turned to the alien that she identified as a Ballista. Carmen turned back down the hall, spotting a seven man squad entering. "I'll get these guys, you take care of big ugly."

"Roger."

With that both girls opened up on their enemy's: Carmen unleashed her M249, the light machinegun spitting 5.56mm rounds into the squad as they charged towards her, getting shredded. While this happened the girl fired the Panzerbüchse 39 at the huge alien, the first shot blasting out and the round making a heavy impact that elicited a pained shriek from the alien invader. She followed up with another two shots that hit their mark, the third killing the alien in another brilliant explosion of shards. Upon the aliens death the miasma was slowly beginning to dissipate.

Carmen turned to the girl and found that the girl was now gazing back at her. They locked eyes with each other... she felt a sort of connection with this fellow warrior. And judging from the girls eyes the feeling must have been mutual. After looking at each other for a moment she approached the girl. "Here, I'll help you out of these things kiddo, then I can get you to someone who can patch you up." The girl set aside her weapon and Carmen helped her take off the devices. She then helped the witch up, carrying her bridal style. She looked at her with a perplexed look. "I never did get your name." she stated.

The young witch looked with a measure of firmness at the Marine. "Flying Officer Angela Salas Larrazabal, 504th Joint Fighter Wing Ardor Witches." she responds.

Carmen gives a small smile. "Angela... that's a really pretty name." The girl's eyes widen and her face takes a deep blush in response to the Marine's words. While holding Angela her mouth shifts as a discomforting feeling she felt in her heart appeared its way onto her face. Then her face stiffens, her focus surging forth. "Well, no point standing around here anymore, let's go!" And with that, Carmen made her way back to the others. So much has happened today, and she knew... deep down... it wasn't going to be the end of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... <strong>**Andrei Harkov****...**

**Affiliation... Russian FSO Agency...**

**Location...somewhere in the Russian forest, 500 kilometers from Belarus...**

**Status: Abandoned Crash site, Evading Inner Circle troops...**

Night was still upon the FSO agents and their charge. The president's daughter was currently being taken to safety. So far this was good news. However, what was made clear was that Makarov was still steps ahead of them. Although the Disavowed British man, Price, gave them ample warning of the hijacking and made the President and his security detail suspicious of the one helicopter that wasn't replying their radio hails forced Harkov, Zhukov and Pudovkin to take the president to safety, Inner Circle squads tracking them down like hounds for a fox. Now they were hiding behind tree's, waiting for their moment of opportunity.

During their clash with Makarov's men Harkov had gotten his hands on an AK-74U, while Zhukov acquired an AK-47 and Pudovkin a PP90M1. The Russian agent had little clue if the other agents were still alive, or at least those who stayed behind to provide the detail protecting the president's daughter time to escape, but for the moment the worst had to be assumed.

Gazing around the forest Harkhov saw that the coast so far was clear. He motioned to the other two agents as such and Zhukov nods. Zhukov motions silently further into the tree line and the three agents and the Russian president move silently. After several minutes of traipsing though foliage and undergrowth they reach a dirt road.

It seems clear but Harkhov gets the sinking feeling that it won't be for very long. He and the president start crossing as they reach the other side and Pudovkin close behind them they hear vehicles approaching. As Pudovkin gets half way across lights from a small convoy of jeeps and trucks and a BTR shine upon him. Harhkov bit back a curse as Pudovkin turned and tried to open fire on the convoy. He only got ten rounds off before taking three rounds to his shoulder, arm and torso from a Kalashnikov, a pained groan escaping him. The occupants of the vehicles dismount; Inner Circle Troops, with men gathered on either side of the road.

A man with an AK approaches the wounded agent with his rifle leveled and about to perform a killing blow but a man serving as the ranking officer orders him to stand down. "No, keep him alive; he will tell us where the President is, if he is wise." The officer in charge wore a beret and had a look that was of malevolence. The man he gave his orders to nods and roughly handles the man up into a seated position. It was clear that an impromptu interrogation was going to take place. The officer in the beret looked down with an icy smile, first he reaches for his headset and transmits a message "All squads be advised, we have found an agent and have taken him prisoner seven kilometers due west, have patrols doubled in every direction starting from our location. Inform Makarov of our status, my men and I will be interrogating the prisoner for information." After that the man addressed the agent. "So, my friend, I was wondering if you could be so kind as to help us find what we're looking for?"

Pudovkin, looked up at the man with a expression that was a mixture of pain and defiance. "I won't tell you anything, you can go to hell and rot there!" he spat.

The man questioning the agent looked down and scoffed. "Being stubborn will just be hazardous to your health, comrade. I know you are charged with protecting the president, so make this easy on yourself." The man pulled out his pistol and promptly brought his weapon across the man's face, electing a pained grunt. "Tell me where the president is and how many agents he has with him, otherwise I'll ensure things get painful for you from here on out."

Zhukov speaks over the radio. "Harkhov there isn't much that we can do. The president's safety is our number one priority. Take the president and go."

Harkhov's mouth shifts. "And what of you and Pudovkin?"

"I'll draw their attention and bide you and the president time to escape, Pudovkin will do his duty as well. We're both expendable at this point. You protect the president with your life."

Harkhov felt his stomach churn at this difficult choice but the president's safety was paramount. "Da, I will... good luck." The agent proceeded to lead the Russian president away the very moment Zhukov's AK fired off a short volly, two men from Inner circle going down. They could hear the sounds of men shouting and their commander giving orders, but just when they got a distance away, a sudden, bright pillar of light shone behind them.

The Russian president blinked as Harkhov's jaw went slack. Neither man could comprehend what they were seeing but eventually the light then disappeared. Their surroundings got eerily quiet afterwards.

"I'm not sure what that was... but it was... beyond me..." the president says shakily. The only thing Harkhov could do was agree with him. He motions to the president and the two men continue to flee on foot.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking...Unknown...<strong>

**Location... Romangana... some fifty miles from 501st Joint fighter wing base...**

As the light died down the man in the beret opened his eyes finding that he, his men, their prisoners and his convoy somewhere that wasn't the Russian forests. Instead he found himself and his men in a country side of some sort. Stunned he saw a jeep with four soldiers. All four seemed to be dressed in old WW2 Uniforms belonging to America. The four men were clearly aware of the convoy, one of the archaic soldiers, the youngest of the group, turned to his squad mates and then approached them.

"Uh... hello... uh... where did you guys come from exactly?" he definitely sounded American... that much was clear.

The beret man's subordinates are frozen in place at all this, unsure of what to do now that they are out of their element. But there was one thing going through the man's mind as he was looking upon this man before him...

The American man notices the wounded agent and speaks. "Hey, your buddy's hurt bad. If you need some help we'd be mor-" The American soldier in the old uniform and possessing an old weapon is promptly shot by the beret man with his FN Five Seven. The man's three friends try to react but are cut down easily by Russian small arms fire.

The prisoner curses angrily. "You murderous butcher!" The man discharges another round, this time into the agents leg, electing a pained cry. The man's subordinate drags the second agent that they captured just upon arriving to this place and shoved him to the ground.

"Заткнись ОИП" The man barks. He then turns to his subordinate. "I don't know what is going on here. Go to their jeep and find a map that can help us. And get our two prisoners loaded for transport."

"Da, right away!" came a response. The younger man ran off to carry out his orders.

The Russian man, Moriz Glazkov, gave his orders to his men. He gazed at the man he just killed with his pistol first with a look on contempt, then with a smirk, giving the body a firm kick. Another miserable American lay dead at his feet and that of his colleges.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Unknown...<strong>

**Affiliation... 78th Tame Witches...**

**Location... Entrance to the base of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing...**

**Status: Two days prior to Darya's assignment to Duty Desk; 1 hour and 45 minutes after rune transportation from New York... **

She had just gone through the front gate, the driver of her Kübelwagen slowly guiding the vehicle unto the base. As her hardened eyes gazed about the grounds stoically she couldn't help but be impressed with the 501st Fighter Wings assigned location, ideal for defense of Romanga. After hearing how her unit was activated and transferred over to the 501st's base she had to ensure all her belongings, what few there were, had been sent ahead of her. Though the Karlslander was much more happy just to finally be out of hospital...

She slightly adjusted her uniform, ensuring it was sitting properly on her body. It was a unique uniform that was only given to those of the fatherland who proved themselves of prestige though reputation of either rank, renown or deeds. She would have rather it have been for her deeds, instead of her family name, but there was little she could do about that. And much to her discomfort she received this uniform upon her enlistment. She could remember how people looked at her when she wore this uniform at that terribly young age. Nine years old: far younger than any known witch to date to enlist in the Karlsland military. And it was an uphill battle for her every step of the way. As she adjusted her peak cap a lot of bad memories started to worm their way to the surface, but quickly she banished them...

Upon the vehicle reaching the main grounds of the base she spots three of her old friends talking in front of her, three of her fellow witches of the 78th, whom she felt a great respect towards them. She dismounted the vehicle and silently approached the trio.

The Liberion Marine was the first to take notice of her, speaking with surprise. "Well I'll be damned! Noji. Erzsi. Look what the cat dragged in!" She extends her hand, offering a welcoming handshake.

The red haired Ostmark Medic wheeled around, but upon looking at her old comrade she smiles. "Ah! You've come back! Are you feeling better after your stay in hospital? Did they treat you well?"

The Karlsland girl nods, tactfully giving Olivia a handshake as she responds to Sergeant Erzsi Kalmar, the medic of the 78th . "Yes, I'm sorry I was gone for so long. I took some time to heal then was expected." she confessed. Nobuko Jin, also known as "Noji" by her friends and a very uniquely skilled soldier of Fuso, looked with silence, but an ever subtle smile of relief on her face. Clearly she had missed the Karlsland girl with the Raven hair.

Olivia waves it off with a smile. "Hey don't worry; if anything we're just glad your alright. We made sure that you had a room picked out for yourself and everything."

The raven haired girl turned a little guilty. "You didn't have to... really. I could have taken care of it and not needed to trouble any of you at all."

Noji shook her head. "You are our friend. Our squad mate. It's expected to help one of our own."

"Are the other girls around? I was hoping to great them..." her mouth hooked in worry. "I know they must have been concerned for me while I was in that condition."

Erzsi responds. "Well, Hélène is in the kitchen preparing a meal. The others went off to Sortie, they should be back any moment now." The red haired witch looks skywards to the north east, a smile filling her features. "And look at the perfect timing! Here they come now." Erzsi's face turns to the Karlslander witch. "The other girls really did miss you, ya know."

The Karlslander smiled a ghost of a smile... her eyes still carried that look of dull hardened emptiness, her damaged heart slowly trying to urge itself to feel more then pain that it held deep inside, even though she truly was glad to gaze upon her friends once more. What with what happened to her... she feared it would have been the last this time...

The commanding officer of the 78th Tame Witches Combined Reserve Squadron, Clotilda Marwick and the other witches of both the 78th and 501st approached. Everyone seemed to be well worked, it was clear the sortie was a difficult one.

Clotilda's eyes caught the Karlslander and a warm smile filled her features. Before the other witches could fly into the hanger the commander of the 78th approached her 2IC. She took a moment to gaze upon her subordinate officer, the other girls of the 78th had also took notice and upon spotting their returning witch they gathered around happily, speaking words of warm greeting. The 501st witches seemed to take notice for a moment but went ahead into the hanger to dismount their strikers, though it was noticed that they were curious of the new arrival.

Clotilda smiles mildly. "It's so good to see you alive and well again. You've come to report in, haven't you?" she asked warmly.

"Yes mamm." The raven haired witch snapped to attention and saluted her commanding officer. "Leutnant Ludwiga Krupke reporting in to resume her duties." she reports. "Has there been any new developments as of late that I require a briefing on, mamm?"

Clotilda's smile leaves her face and her face becomes much more passive. "A lot actually... there have been several developments that had happened while you were recovering that I will catch you up to speed on..." a look on concern then filled her. "You're sure that your alright?"

"Yes much better now at least."

Clotilda had a look of hesitation, but she ventures a question. "Did they ever find out... who the culprit was who attacked you?"

Ludwiga slowly shook her head solemnly. "All that they could figure it was someone who was anti-witch... but beyond that they haven't much to go on." Despite saying that Ludwiga had a strange inkling feeling who could have been responsible. But for now, there were only two things she cared about at this moment:

The first was that she was now back with her beloved, fellow witches. Her comrades of the 78th.

The second was these new developments Coltilda spoke of. She wasn't sure what these events were but they sound of the utmost importance...

Clotilda sighs. "I see. Well... for now we should see to it you receive a meal. After that, we'll bring you up to speed as to what has been going on as of late. Understood?"

Ludwiga nods. "Understood." As she watched Clotilda return with the other witches to the hanger she couldn't help but feel a little bit of relief. _It's good to be back..._ she muses quietly.

* * *

><p><strong>And with that Chapter 27 is complete... and it's now 6:00 in the AM. New developments in this chapter going down and it seems like a big reveal at the end.<strong>

**As a bit of a authors note is that I have given blaze permission to use all Ten girls of the 78th Tame Witches ****Combined Reserve Squadron's main cast in his story, so if someone is wondering why they are and will be making future making appearances in the Clocktower is because of that and I am interested how things will develop for them in his story, seeing as it a story with a different tone to it.**

**Anyways, thanks again for reading, please let me know if there's any questions that you may have and I'll do my best to answer, fellow writers and readers. Happy New Years, have a good day and as always: stay frosty.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Hello everyone. I want to give a quick heads up in the authors notes that this chapter will feature scenes of both lemon and rape, and will feature a certain, deplorable hate group spreading hate speech and bigotry, so be warned of the subject matter in question. If you are a reader who is either underage or draw issue with such content then it is recommended that you skip passed such scenes. I want to deliver a brief author tract in that some of such the subject matter in this chapter was difficult to write, but seeing as they are issues that occur in life and I have seen happen that it and other real life topics will be explored and touched upon in the story for narrative immersion and to explore how the Witches would react to such challenges like this in our world. **

**In addition, while I will be continuing with WR141, I am going to take a short break to begin working on a series of one shots and a short story involving the ten primary witches and two mauve shirt witches of the 78th Tame Witches Combined Reserve Squadron. There will be ten stories in total that will delve into the lives of the 78th, nine of which will show the girls just shortly being assigned to their respective unit together and the short story that takes place just before the events of WR141. It is long overdue for me to show the lives of these key supporting characters in WR141, seeing as they will be playing an every growing role within the story, and I hope that you guys enjoy experiencing their lives and journey's in both the one shots and in WR141 itself.**

**Lastly on the docket is that I didn't expect the chapter to be this long, even after promising to try as keep within a reasonable limit per chapter, it seems that the story got away from me. Hopefully I'll be able to keep things under control next time.**

**Once more unto the breach: the next chapter begins...**

***Edit* Just a quick heads up to all my readers is that I took the liberty to edit chapters 15, 20,21,22,23 and 25 and have ret-conned Clotilda's rank from 1st Lieutenant to Captain due to the size of the 78th Tame Witches roster and how little sense it would make even as far as a witch is concerned for her to be in charge of the 78th with such a low rank, therefore it's required the change of Clotilda's rank into something remotely realistic.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Chapter 28<p>

**Tracking... Charlotte "Shirley" Yeager...**

**Affiliation... 501st Joint fighter Wing...**

**Location... 501st Witches Base Romagna...**

**Time: 09:33 hours, One day prior to Darya's assignment to Duty Desk...**

_"Charlotte Yeager: you're a Captain now! You have to act in a manner that's becoming of your rank! Show some discipline and professionalism already!" Gertrud barked at her._

_'Trudy's at it again. Always had that standard regulation stick up her butt as always', she mused. _

_"If you only you spent sometime on your discipline as much as you tinker with your striker then I know you'd make an excellent officer, but that won't happen if you don't apply yourself."_

_The busty Liberion scoffed. "Oh, quit being such a stick in the mud already: I handle my job quite fine, thank you. Not every officer is the same Trudy, you should know that. Too much discipline makes you too rigid, so lighten up will you!"_

_"Unacceptable! I'm not budging on this until this sinks into that thick head, Liberion slacker!" Trude seemed much more adamant than normal. Well, Trudy was always stubborn, that was a given. "So are you going to start getting yourself in shape as an officer or do I need to take action to motivate you?"_

_"Oh please, you're in need of some leave, but I doubt you'd know how to take any: you'd likely use it to work in the admin desk or drill the girls or just go out fighting again. You ought to learn a thing or two from Hartmann, you might even learn to relax for once if you did."_

_Trudy's face drew into a snarl. "What did you say?!" she demanded, approaching Shirley and pressing herself close to the other girls face._

_Shirley glared at her rival challengingly. "You heard me!" she shot back. Both girls had their foreheads pressed up to each other combatively. As the two rivals stared each other down with frustrated looks and growling Shirley felt a pain in her chest._

_She missed these moments. She missed having to butt heads with her favorite rival. Doing this really took her back when she teased Trudy for being the straight-laced disciplined Karlslander that she and her squadmates had come to care for._

_She missed Trudy..._

_Shirley's frustration soon faltered and gave way to a melancholy feeling, her voice started to waver. "Damn it Trudy! You always were a stubborn idiot: You almost got killed shortly after Yoshika joined our unit, you risked your life pushing yourself beyond the limit with the EitherJet Striker, then you hurt yourself crashing out on the battlefield and now you wind up in some other world facing who knows what by yourself and without any of us there to help you! Haven't you stopped to think for one damned second that you might take a risk you might not walk away from?! Haven't you stopped to think what would happen if you took one risk too many!?"_

_Gertrud looked surprised at this, blinking a bit, trying to take in this sudden declaration."S-shirley?"_

_She looked at the Karlslander with a look of sorrow. "Haven't you thought... how important you are to us, Barkhorn? How important you are to..." Shirley hesitated for a moment, then sighed, looking Trudy in the eyes. "Don't you ever realize how much it would hurt us if something happened to you, Trudy?"_

_Gertrud looked into the eyes of the Liberion Captain, stunned into silence. After a while of looking at her in surprise, Gertrud had a subtle look of warmth on her face. "Hey, Shirley?"_

_"Yeah, what?" Shirley asked with a guarded tone._

_Gertrud's smile grew a bit wider, a light blush finding a way onto her cheeks. "Did you know... you have beautiful eyes?"_

_Shirley was silent for a minute as she took in what Trudy said to her. Did she just hear that right? "Huh? What are you talking about? Where did that come fro-" before she could finish her question Gertrud pressed herself up against Shirley's body and planted a kiss on her lips. Charlottes mind froze completely. 'W-wait a second, w-what's going on?! How the hell is this happening?! Why are you kissing me?!' Then the buxom girl had a moment of realization, further adding to her shock as Trudy's hands started to move towards her more intimate areas. 'Wait... why am I kissing back?! And why... does this... feel good?'_

"GAH, WAIT A MINIUTE!" Shirley promptly bolted awake, papers scattered in every direction and were flung into the air. Looking around the commanders office of command she remembered that she had dozed off trying to sort through even more paper work involving status reports, requisition forms and duty rosters. Too much damn paper work to sort through to the point of reaching exhaustion. When that happened she needed a good ten minute power nap. After spending this long trying to handle running things on base her body was starting to feel the effects. "Geeze... it was just a dream."

Ever since Gertrud went missing Charlotte was worried about whether or not her squadmate was alright. This was a natural thing to worry about, who wouldn't worry about the fact that one of your friends had gone missing? But this was the first time she had ever had a dream like that... what was that about? Feeling her face warming up she sighed and mopped her face.

"That was so weird... what was up with that dream?" While Shirley had to concede that Trudy was a very pretty girl, that she hadn't really had much time for things like romance or intimacy, what with her dreams of achieving the speed of sound. Sure she got propositioned by boys and even a few girls sometimes. Come to think of it she was propositioned by both boys and girls a lot the more she thought about it, had two or three dates, but nothing steady and nothing beyond that. She was far too focused on her dreams to slow down and date people. Didn't even have much in terms of intimacy either; she was much too busy pursuing her goals in achieving new accomplishments in the realm of speed. She was "Glamorous Shirley" after all, the speed demon of the 501st.

But for the first time; she was having very intimate, erotic dreams about her rival. And for the life of her she didn't know why. Looking at the scattered stacks of paper she sighed, then looked to the stamp sitting on the table, cringing. _How can anyone go through this much paper work: I already did ten stacks today? Ah well, at least I had a nap for a while... but why did I have a dream like that? _Shirley shook her head. _Probably shouldn't think about it too much, I should just get back to work and then check on the girls, see how their training is going._ Before she could get back to work she suddenly noticed something. _W-wait a minute... why do my panties feel wet?_

She looked down at herself and noticed that her panties were a little moist. "Oh come on! Did that dream really get me this head up?! I mean this is Barkhorn we're talking about here!" Her face fell flat as she exhaled in annoyance. Although, she did have to admit... she did miss Barkhorn. But why is she having this sort of a reaction and this sudden weird feeling for Gertrud, especially now of all times. "Now I'll have to grab a fresh pair from my room." she sighed.

**Tracking... Sgt. Marcus Burns...**

**Affiliation... 22nd SAS Regiment...**

**Location... London, United Kingdom...**

**Date: October 6****th**** - 4:39:11**

The truck was down, overturned and sliding on its side, grinding to a halt several meters away from the SAS blockade. The driver was riddled with enough Parabellum 9mm rounds from an assortment of MP5's belonging to the men of the SAS to look like Swiss cheese. Hour upon hour running the king house back at base every morning had paid off in the long run, as far as marksmanship was concerned at any rate.

The battle took him from Canary Wharf, a construction site, through the tube and finally ending at Westminster Station.

With the hostile truck down it now left one gnawing question in his mind...

Bravo 2-1 gave the order to cease fire and Redgrave gave the all clear. Wallcroft got on the radio to report in on their end. "Baseplate, the lorry's down. We're secure. What's the status on the others?" Thiers a pause, no response from the other end. Marcus found that worrying. Wallcroft spoke again over the radio, this time with a more pressing tone. "Baseplate, come in. Baseplate, where are the trucks?!" he demanded.

Sergeant Burns cringed. He hoped that events weren't going where he thought they were going. Before he could compete his thoughts and while Wallcroft continued to radio Baseplate for status on the trucks he noticed something as his gaze went to the rooftops. He could see a set of five objects, one smaller than the other moving though the dusk skies over London. They seemed black with red markings on them. "Oi, Wallcroft?"

Wallcroft turned to Burns in exasperation, the other SAS troopers now having their attention turn to the "What the bloody hell is it?"

Burns motions over to the objects in the sky. "Up there, I think I see something. Some sort of aircraft, I think... up at twelve o-clock."

Wallcroft looks to where Burns was motioning to, spotting the five aircraft. "The bloody hell... are those drones?"

"I'm not sure. Are they ours?"

"We're about to find out, I'm calling it in to be safe." Wallcroft got back on the radio to report the find to Baseplate. "Baseplate be advised, we have five unknown aircraft moving North-North-East from our position, possibly drones. Are they ours?" He paused, being met once again with silence. "Baseplate, come in! Do you copy?!"

After another bout of silence, Baseplate finally gives a response. "Sorry Bravo 6, we are still trying to get a location on the remaining trucks. Be advised we only have one drone confirmed ours in your airspace, are you certain it's not civilian air traffic?"

"I'm not sure Baseplate, but they're much too small to be civilian airliners or any other small manned aircraft. I say again, we may have possible enemy drones."

"We'll look into the aircraft and keep you posted on the locations of the other trucks, Bravo 6. We're sending one of our drones to investigate the craft. Standby for further orders."

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking...<strong> **Lynette Bishop ...**

**Affiliation... 501st Joint Fighter Wing...**

**Location: 501st Joint Fighter Wing, Romagna...**

**Timeframe: 10:36 hours, One day prior to Darya's assignment to Duty Desk...**

**Status: Training Exercise Underway... Air Infantry Mock Battle has begun...**

"Alright... we'll be starting the 3rd Mock Battle now. Everyone's ready, right? Yoshika will be facing Perrine and Alannah will be facing Brinda. Yoshika and Perrine, like before, will start first." Lynn looked about the four witches that Shirley instructed she would oversee the Mock Battle of. She had noticed recently that Yoshika had been acting differently as of late, although from what she was able to see of her friend she figured it was because Yoshika was probably getting more motivated to do her best. Although she was unsure just what was the cause for her to push herself so much.

But despite her recent enthusiasm, and having a strong start during the mock battle, it was apparent that Yoshika was still struggling somehow. When she flew she was struggling to keep her form while in flight, which left her open to Perrine's attacks. She had already taken a full burst of paint ammunition from the Gallien girl's training weapon twice already. Lynne was silently hoping that maybe this time her Yoshika will be able to take a win this next round.

"Okay, Mock Battle: Start!"

When she gave the signal and blew her whistle the four witches initiated the mock battle with their respective opponents. Yoshika was off with Perrine following close behind. Perrine was following on Yoshika's tail, making sure to keep the Fuso girl in her sights. While Yoshika was flying defensively Lynne could see her legs wobble, as if she were trying to maintain stability with her strikers. She attempted a hard right turn, but she wasn't turning quite as tight as she did earlier during the mock battle. Yoshika tried to follow up a small burst at Perrine, but the paint rounds went a few meters wide. Perrine used this opportunity to counter with a sharp left turn, the maneuver was much tighter then Yoshika's own turn, allowing her to get into a favorable position and fire. Each and every paint round managed to hit it's mark, marking Yoshika with orange splotches of paint.

At the sound of the whistle Yoshika and Perrine's mock battles were over: three wins for the Gallien of nobility, three losses for the Fuso healer. "The Match is over! Perrine win's again!" Even despite the cheery declaration, Lynne felt a great deal of concern for Yoshika, she had never seen her friend perform this poorly; even when she was in training. The Fuso girl also seemed much more exhausted than normal, but she couldn't help but wonder why that was. "You have three losses of out three Yoshika. That's not like you at all."

Perrine wore a very firm look as she gazed in annoyance at Yoshika. "You know; I'd appreciate it if you didn't hold back just because this is training." After a pause an accusatory look filled Perrine's eyes. "Or what? Are you simply refusing to take me seriously?!" she demanded.

Yoshika looked panicked gestured in negative in response. "No! I'm not holding back! I'm taking you seriously, I swear!" she replies in worried assurance.

Despite this Perrine still seemed unsatisfied, and proceeded to move back from Yoshika, it was clear she was frustrated with her squad mates lack luster performance, or at least so it seemed. Lynne sighed and turned to the next two witches for the upcoming Mock Battle; Alannah and Brinda. After getting to know them a bit, Lynne found the two girls to be very spirited young witches. The fifteen year old witch from Australis, Alannah, was a girl with short, dirty blond hair, shining brown eyes, an athletic body and an average sized bust for a girl her age. The familiar she had was a Campbell Albatross. As Lynne could observe in the time she had come know her, Alannah was a very tough, athletic tomboy, if perhaps a bit on the competitive side and just a little bit of a cheeky wisecracker.

Alannah turned to her small squad mate and gave a wide smile. "So, are you ready for our go next? Just because we're friends don't think that I'll hold back." She warns, brandishing the mock training variant of her Charlton Automatic Rifle with one hand.

The smallest witch of the 78th who hailed from Pali nods with a look of clear excitement, so much so that her face was positively glowing. Lynne would almost go as far as say her face was glowing as much as Yoshika's did whenever the two of them talked with each other. "Don't worry! I sure wont. And the same applies from me to you: I'm a Ghurkha after all." The thirteen year old retrieved the Bren Mark 1 mock training weapon from her back. "I'm ready when you are." The ears of her familiar, a Palese snow leopard, twitched in excitement from within her chestnut coloured, short hair.

"Same here." Alannah turned to Lynne and nods. "You can give the word to start if you want, we're both-." Alannah stops for a moment with a thoughtful look. "Actually, is it alright if I can make a request?"

Lynnette was perplexed by this. Curiosity got the better of her and Lynne decided to inquire into what it is the Australis witch wants. "Uh... I suppose so. What would you like to request, exactly?"

"Is it alright if Brinda and I can use our full magical abilities as well as our shields for this mock battle?"

Lynne gave a nod. "Well, I suppose that's alright if you really want to. It might be a good way to help in training with your magical control as well in the field. Aside from that it's the same rules as before." She blows her whistle, signifying the start of the Mock Battle.

Alannah was the first off like a shot. "Catch me if you can, Brinda!" Brinda just laughed as she pursued her fellow tame witch, jockeying for position to get Alannah in her sights.

No sooner did Alannah take off she activated her innate magical ability, with a light blue glow starting to envelop her body. At this her strikers roared as magic energy poured into her magic engine. However as the Australis performed a quick turn while rolling onto her side to rake Brinda with a volley, Lynne noticed that her Charlton Automatic Rifle was firing at a rate that was faster than normal for a weapon of that type.

_That's strange... a magical ability that increases the speed of her striker and the rate of fire for her weapon. _Lynne mused to herself.

Brinda managed to barely doge the incoming volley and proceeded to return that fire. However, Alannah was quick to react, juking hard left to avoid being hit. After a few minutes of both girls playing a game of cat and mouse with each other Alannah got into position behind Brinda. Brinda started to climb in altitude, but Alannah was fast approaching from her six o-clock. She fired a volley as Brinda rolled onto her back while climbing. Lynne then saw something amazing; it wasn't so much that Brinda stopped the incoming paint munitions, which did indeed happen: it was the fact that the projectiles seemed to be held in place in her shield. Even more amazing was that after about ten seconds of holding the projectiles the Ghurkha witch's shield momentarily intensified and then returned the rounds back at Alannah, though with a set of completely random trajectories. Alannah's shield managed to crash through the rounds that were set upon her general direction but she could see the Australis girl stagger a little, winded by the impact.

_A shield control ability of this type... I haven't seen a shield used like this before._ Lynne was impressed with these two witches inherent magic, the spells they used were belong to sub-categories to certain magic lineage that she had only heard of at best, or only now had become aware of. After some back and forth and aerobatics Alannah finally performed an inside loop. At the apex of the loop Alannah aimed her training weapon and fired a long, sustained burst, catching her smaller target flatfoot. Brinda was painted from head to her lower back with paint splotches from the training munitions. Lynne blew the whistle and raised her hand. "First Round goes to Alannah!" she declares with a smile.

Both girls regroup with Lynne, Perrine and Yoshika, with Brinda looking a little meek at her loss. Alannah looked to the small girl with a smile. "Oi, what's the matter? You did very well out there for the first round, why the long face?"

Brinda looked to the Australis girl as Yoshika wiped the paint off of the smaller girl with a towel. "I thought I'd be improving at this point by now... but I guess... I haven't made any progress at all. At this rate..." She trailed off. It was clear that the small girl was really trying to push herself, but was now fast losing heart. Lynne started to think the small Pali girl may have had self esteem issues much like Lynne herself had before Yoshika arrived.

Alannah gave a light chuckle. "Hey now, don't go thinking like that. You've been improving bit by bit each time. Hell you really made me work for my shots back there, so don't be too hard on yourself."

Brinda seemed to feel a little bit better at this. "Y-yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks Alannah." she replies warmly, perhaps a bit quicker than it would have been for most people. Lynne figured Alannah's words to Brinda must have carried much more impact than normal.

"No problem."

Yoshika spoke to Alannah with a tone of curiosity. "Um... I was wondering what sort of magic you two were using during the Mock Battle? If your alright with me asking that is..."

Perrine had worn a look of guarded interest. "Yes, I was wondering that myself to be honest."

Alannah wore a grin as she explained with a great degree of pride about her magic. "Gladly! My magical ability is called : Super Overdrive. It's a sort of an Intrinsic magical ability that allows me to extend both the speed and endurance of not only my body but both my strikers and weapons. My Charlton can spit out twice as much lead for twice the time, I can fly the longest in the 78th and not only maintain but even push my top speed on my Spitfire a little bit thanks to the increase of speed output and endurance, heck..." She flexes her arm and places her other hand upon it with a squeeze. "Even my own physical being can not only push normal limits as far as witches are concerned but react faster than the other girls in my squad. Basically I provide the fast, heavy hitting in the Tame Witches. I used it earlier back during that battle in Venezia, used quite a bit of my magic against that wing of Laros-Kai."

Lynne's face was glowing in amazement at hearing the magical ability of the Australis girl. "Oh wow! That's really amazing!" Yoshika also was quite amazed at this girl's magic, her body tensed in excitement. Perrine, being Perrine, had a look of mild amusement.

Alannah shrugged. "Yeah, but the drawback is that if I use it for too long, not only does it eventually drain my magic reserves: I get dehydrated pretty fast. Last time I had to fight in a three hour long engagement and used my magic and wound up passing out in the middle of enemy territory. Not to mention both me, my strikers and my weapon were overheated and worn down enough to the point of being strained. If I kept firing my Charlton at that point I would have end up splitting the barrel or cooking off the ammunition. And my striker's magic engine output wound up getting dodgy as hell, I'll tell ya. And worst yet, my canteen was dry as a bone in the outback: not even a drop left. I need water to help keep cool and hydrated after expending myself to a degree like that, helps replenish my body and magic while I use my magic ability."

"How did you manage to survive such a harrowing ordeal?" Perrine asked with genuine surprise. Alannah silently turned to Brinda with a smile. Though she didn't say anything to or about her best friend the look on her face and in her eyes conveyed more than words ever could.

Brinda noticed and laughed nervously, her face taking a light blush. "That would be because of me. Believe it or not, at the time I was a Land Battle Witch in the 2nd Ghurkha rifles. I used an M3 Lee Land Battle Combat Leg type Striker with twin Cannons." the small girl explained.

"A land battle witch?" Perrine inquired.

"Yup, I signed on so I could help on the Malayan front. I served their for a little over a month, and I was pretty good at it."

"Two Cannons?! You could really carry all that?!" Yoshika exclaimed. It was likely she couldn't believe that someone so small could carry twin heavy cannons into battle like that. Lynne herself couldn't even comprehend it. She wondered how someone like Brinda could carry such a heavy weapon with the allotted ammo required to operate such a weapon.

Brinda giggled. "I know: a lot of the non-Pali witches I met were amazed by the fact I could carry both canons despite my size." After a pause, a look of shock crossed her. "I mean height! Height! Height!" she amends in a panic.

Yoshika blinked, a perplexed look crossing her face."Huh? Yeah, we know what you meant, I think."

Lynne nods. "Yeah, what did you mean if you didn't mean height?"

Brinda waved off the question in embarrassment, her face turning redder. "Nothing! Really, nothing, I swear!" Brinda sighed and continued. "Well at any rate, I had some water on me and I lent Alannah some and covered her until she was at least hydrated enough to fly again. In that time I had to use my Magic ability: "Shield of Return", to return Neuroi laser fire back at the enemy. It's more accurate for me to return laser fire then it is to return bullets and other human projectiles." She motioned to her striker unit on her legs, her hands traipsing over the steel body. "To be honest it was much easier to use my magic ability with my M3 combat legs then with my Hawk Hurricane here."

Perrine raised an eyebrow. "I see..." she stated simply.

Lynne couldn't help but wonder about something, having realized that Brinda was a Land Battle Witch, key word being _was_. "So why did you put in a transfer for Air Infantry anyways?" she asked. That was a detail that she wanted to see answered. It was uncommon for witches to transfer branches in the military, due to the need for retraining witches for service in different roles and to operate different strikers.

Brinda 's face fully turned as red as a beet at Lynne's question, but the look of nervousness she had gave way to a smile as her eyes darted for a moment over to the Australis witch. "I made... a very good friend that day. And... I wanted to help support her. That's why I cast off my Land Battle legs and became Air Infantry."

Lynne couldn't argue that. "I think I understand that all too well." Looking over at Yoshika she knew what the small witch from Pali meant about being close to your friends. It moved her to see this girl go to such lengths to fight alongside Alannah. Although, some part of her wondered if that was really the only reason. The way Brinda worded it made Lynne wonder...

Perrine groaned lightly. "Yes, yes this is all fascinating, really, but we still have finish the mock battle."

Alannah turned to Perrine with a cheeky look. "What's the matter four eyes? Too prim and bloody proper to enjoy a good story between matches?" She goaded.

Perrine was aghast. "Four eyes!? Why I never in my life ever heard of such a-!"

Lynne blinked in realization and interrupted. "Oh you're right! We're still not finished. Okay, second round, ready? Go!" At the sound of the whistle Alannah and Brinda took off, while Perrine was grumbling to herself. Having been grateful at meeting these people in her life, Lynne couldn't help but smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Carmen Ramirez...<strong>

**Affiliation...Hunter-2-1 75th Ranger Regiment...**

**Location: 501st Joint Fighter Wing, Romagna...**

**Time: 10:45 hours...**

Carmen was sitting with her back up against the wall of the hanger. She and the other American troops have had a chance to collect themselves. With their time off some of them were either in respective gaggles talk about recent events, exercising and training, talking with some of the witches base personnel or in the case of Carmen, watch the Witches mock battle up in the sky. to a lot of the American men and women it was truly a surreal experience coming to the witches world. For most this would have been their first time here. There was a lot of culture shock running through the ranks.

Though she wasn't really paying much attention to the other Marines or the Rangers around her. Her thoughts kept on going back to the man she was in charge of leading, Kline... how she was responsible for him, her orders responsible for his death: a man she was in charge of leading in her fire team. This dead Marine only made her think back to the two people that were once in her life... lives of ones who she found precious and dear to her... and how in her pained, sorrowful dismay she had lost then to the flames of war. Her very first hook up before these two... she was quick, willing and more than happy to forget. _Good riddance to bad rubbish._ She silently huffed to herself. If she ever saw that bastard again it would be too soon.

Morgan was sitting right next to Carmen while she watched the witches, while at the same time musing over her thoughts, disassembling and cleaning the parts to his 240 Bravo. The damn thing was getting prone to jamming, so he figured the reason for this was because it required cleaning. After finishing with the firing assembly he noticed James, Laymen and Zander approaching, with Zander, much to his and Carmen's surprise, was walking completely under his own power, looking as surprised as they were.

As she was in her own little world beside him, Morgan spoke questioningly to James and Laymen, his finger pointed at Zander. "H-hey, wasn't he paralyzed a while ago? Should he really be walking around like that?"

Zander had a look of complete shock on his face as he took a seat with Laymen and James joining with them. "I was... I _was_ paralyzed." he responds absently. "But then I... I just got... um... magicked back to health."

Morgan looked skeptical at hearing this. "You're shitting me." he responds flatly.

"It's true man, I saw that Miyafuji girl and that other kid... Erzsi, use some of that healing magic James told us about. Took them both a couple hours but they really fixed him up." Laymen insists. "Never in my entire life would I have believed it if I haven't seen it myself." After a moment he adds after some thought. "Though to be honest I'm still hung up over the whole "no pants" thing myself. Seriously, a bunch of kids that are of middle school and high school age's running around with no goddamn pants; what the hell kind of world is this place anyways?"

James just wears a passive look on his face and a matter of fact tone. "The girls are active duty witches: they need ease of access to don their strikers at a moment's notice so they pretty much _can't_ wear pants so they can be ready when the call goes out."

Laymen looks to James in astonishment. "How the hell can you be so calm about this dude! We've got a bunch of underage minors parading around in their underwear! This worlds pretty much a pedophiles wet dream! How are you not be panicking?! This is a big deal!"

James shrugs. "I don't see how it is really." he says simply.

All the guys look to him with looks of open mouthed shock at this, followed closely by a set of dirty looks. "What are you saying... that you're getting off to this sort of shit, are you a damn perv or something?!" Zander demands.

James wears a look of awe filled bewilderment. "To be honest... I've been here for long enough that... I just stopped noticing it. The fact the girls are walking around, flying around or what have you without any pants just stopped registering to me. It's like you get desensitized to it or something. First time I saw the witches for myself it hit me like a fucking freight truck, but now: nothing. No freak outs, no libido acting up without permission; nada. You just get used to the fact that panties are worn openly... and apparently a lot of girls and young women worldwide who idolize witches also go without pants too; got to see that as well. It's all I can tell ya."

After a moment of uneasy silence Laymen hummed thoughtfully. "I don't know wither to find this awesome or horrifying." he remarks.

Morgan shakes his head in disbelief and turns to Carmen. "What do you think, Carmen?" he asks.

Her thoughts of her two long lost loves interrupted, Carmen turns to Morgan with confusion. "What do I think of what?" she asks.

"The Witches and this world of course! What else would I be talking about? They're completely bottomless." he responds, reassembling the receiver and firing pin of the 240.

"Weird... and very fucking distracting. That's all I can say really. But I think the more important thing we should more concerned with was that... fucking metal monster I dumped half of a 200 round box mag into. I was only able to stagger the damned thing... and those other laser shooting motherfuckers for that matter."

"Metal Monster? What are you tal-"

James interrupts. "Neuroi. You actually took a Neuroi head on, Carmen?"

Carmen nods. "Nearly took my head off with a laser, but yeah. I don't think I left much of a dent in it really. That girl: Angela. She managed to destroy the thing in one shot." Carmen felt worried about the witch that she had came to the rescue of. She heard how one of her squad mates, a girl named Fernandia, used some healing magic to help heal her. Still, those wounds looked pretty bad. She couldn't help but worry a little for the kid. "Her wounds were rough though. Just hope she isn't too bad."

James looks emphatically to Carmen. "Are you feeling alright, sis?" His voice held a tone of grave concern.

Carmen nods. "Yeah." she responds with a light tone.

"Are you sure?" he pressed, clearly sounding unconvinced.

"Yeah." Her tone and face dropped flatly at her brothers prying. What was he so damned worried about?

Her answer came by means of an ambiguous question. "You sure you don't want to talk about... you know... what happened back there."

It was at this point she knew where her brother was driving at: Kline's death. She sighs and gives a gloomy response. "...I fucked up. I cost Kline his life because of my damned orders for him to come along with me. If I just told him to hang back with you guys he'd still be alive." She sighed bitterly. "Damned Russian bastards. Not only that, they got a few civvies caught in the crossfire trying to kill us."

"Hey, I know it hurts, alright." Zander says, trying to reassure Carmen. "But he was doing his job, just like you were..." He trailed off for a moment and sighed. "But yeah... those civvies... they got caught up in our shit. At least we got most of them to safety and took out a good chunk of the Russian's that got ported in with us."

"Small blessing." Carmen scoffs.

James looks sympathetically at his sister and leans forward. He didn't want to see her beating herself up so much. "You did a good job sis... you managed to hold yourself and your fire-team together. You remember that. Take that feeling inside yourself and use it to pull you forward and the rest of your fire team. Use it to avenge the loss of one of your own, alright?"

Carmen was stunned by her brothers words. A smile crossed her a moment in amusement. She could always depend on her brother to help keep her grounded. "Yeah... you're right. Where'd you come up with that one anyways?"

James smirked. "Sarge taught me that one. A lot of what he said over time sunk in with me so... I guess that's why I'm able to keep squared away as well as I have."

Before Carmen could respond to this the sound of an aircraft engine 's drone approaches. Many of the American troops notice one of the witches descending to the ground by the hanger door, being greeted by a soldier wearing a Britannian uniform and carrying a pair of Jerry cans. The witch in question; a girl named Alannah, thanks the soldier and proceeded to take one of the Jerry cans, looking as though she were exhausted and sweating heavily. She unscrewed the cap of the Jerry can and upon placing her lips on the opening proceeded to tilt her head back with the jerry can and steadily down the water that was inside.

The American's watched with wide eyed shock as the Australis girl downs the large volume of water in one go. After finishing the first jerry can she lightly tosses it to the soldier, retrieves the second Jerry Can and repeats the process. Upon finishing she sighs contently and casts aside the second Jerry Can, now completely empty.

Carmen blinked. "How in the world are you able to drink that much fucking water in one sitting?!" she exclaims.

Alannah turns to her and shrugs with a flat look on her face. "I was thirsty." she replies. With that she initiated her strikers and began flying back into the sky. "Alright! Time for the third and final round!"

Carmen, the Ranger's and Marines could unanimously agree: this world, and these girls: were weird. But if there was one thing that Carmen did find to like about this world, it was the tough, pretty girl that she had came to the aid of. She really hoped that the young witch was healing up alright. The more she thought about this girl the more she found her face heating up. But then memories of old flames lost to war returned to her... she still wasn't sure... if her heart was ready quite yet...

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Sergeant Ian "Justice" Ward...<strong>

**Affiliation...Team Viking, Delta Force...**

**Location... Holland Tunnel, New York...**

**Status: Approaching allied unit within former Russian held barricade, reports indicate an exchange of fire between American Regular Army Unit's and possible hostiles...**

**Time: 5:42:09...**

This had to be the most insane thing that he ever had to go through. Just what the hell was his team supposed to be hunting down in here? The barricade set up by the Russian's was completely demolished, and the evidence they found seemed to indicate it wasn't American small arms responsible for it. Body parts, broken weapons and flattened sandbags were strewn about the outside of the Holland tunnel, large gashes were cut into the pavement.

He thought they were going after Russians, but as he inched forward with his squad with their night vision up he could see that the Russian's were already neutralized. And judging from the fact Russian vehicles and armor were in neatly cut pieces or bisected, dismembered body's or an occasional splatter upon the ground, walls and ceiling struck him as uncanny. Justice had seen some very messed up battles in his time in Delta, been to on ops from Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Somalia and Panama, but this was something entirely different. He started to wonder what the squad leader of Team Viking was thinking at right this moment. Were any of their guys still alive down here?

Justice looked over to Staff Sergeant Undertone, who aimed his M4A1 resting in his hands down the dark, yawning blackness of the tunnel, NVG's down over his eyes. "Anyone have eyes on hostiles?" he asked.

First Sergeant Patron responds in a hushed whisper. "Negative, no contact at our twelve. Looks clear."

"Alright, Coffin, Patron, Justice, move on me. Let's go find our boys are, see if they're doing alright doing. Let's go."

The four Delta Operators move silently through the dark passage of Holland Tunnel. There were quite a few tunnels in New York that run underneath the river, with Holland being one of them. Moving forward Justice noticed that scorch marks, burns, pockmarks and small craters pocketed the concrete walls, ceiling and even the asphalt. Amongst wreaked civilian cars and a few Russian military vehicles they came across a couple American Humvees sitting midway in the tunnel. Patron approached and checked the first heavily damaged vehicles interior for survivors.

Patron's exhaled in disappointment. "Damnit..." As he approached Justice saw the amount of damage: all five soldiers inside the Humvee were KIA, the man who served as the turret gunner had his head taken cleanly off and his body slumped between his buddies, or at least what was left of them. "Their gone sir." After doing a check of the other Humvee it was clear that they were completely wiped out. But there was still another four unaccounted for in this particular unit.

Coffin moved past the group and suddenly came to a stop. "Hey guys, come take a look at this."

"What'cha find Coffin?" Undertone turned to their auto rifleman and approached him, Justice and Patron following suite. What now stood before them was what seemed to appear to be a deep hole that descended into the ground at a 25 degree angle, looking as though... something... had buried into the earth through the pavement.

Justice examined the hole. "Okay... that looks new. What the hell could have made that?" he states flatly.

"We're about to find out..." Undertone slowly approached the mouth of this newly crafted cavern. He entered a couple feet in and turned to his men. "Put your game faces on and look sharp."

Patron made a throaty groan. "I know where this is going; I've seen this movie before man. We're about to have our faces eaten, I swear to god."

"Stay frosty and move." Undertone hissed.

The four Delta operators marched their way into the passage. Justice was quick to notice the fact the tunnel about five feet in seemed to be made of some strange, metallic substance. Felt quite cold to the touch as he ran his fingers momentarily across it. While descending down the tunnel the floor evened out and seemed to expand a little bit, they came across another three humvees but all that was left of them were burnt, blown out chassis. The only remote piece of human remains was a severed arm, some blood and gore spatter on the walls and a pair of helmets resting on the ground. The chamber then seemed to divide into several passages, a glow that was so faint that it barely even held back the darkness. In some passages it was pitch black.

"So, which way do we go?" Justice asked.

Undertone took a knee and examined the floor. He picked up a spent shell casing from a Browning .50 BMG and inspected it. "We follow the casings" He responds matter of factly. They follow the center passage that left a trail of shell casings on the floor of this passageway for a while before the passage way seemed to branched further. Undertone then stopped and brought his hand up in a "halt" gesture. "You hear that?" he asked his men.

Coffin blinked and scanned the area. "Hear what?"

Justice could hear it: the sound of three voices whimpering in terror. "Voices. Contact." he states plainly.

Patron's mouth shifts. "Survivors?"

Undertone motioned his men forward and the four of them slowly advanced. Justice really hoped that it was their guys, otherwise this was going to get very ugly, very fast. The last thing he wanted was fighting down here in this place. Once they reach the corner they could hear the sound of voices just on the other side of the wall, the light glow from a glow stick shining from the other side of the wall. Once the four of them stacked up, Undertone gave a look, gestured with his hand using military sign language, indicating to sweep and subdue whoever was around the corner. He then counted off silently with his hand. Three. Two. One. At his fist clenching the four men surge around the corner

Frightened gasps welcomed them and a pair of flashlights went to their faces. Justice was met with a sudden wash of light entering the optics of his night vision goggles as he kept his weapon trained on the three individuals, as well as a Humvee with a Mark19 that had seen better days, a part of the back of the vehicle seemed to be missing.

"W-w-w-who the fuck are-" One of the men speaks in surprise but then stops and recognizes Justice and his unit. "Oh thank fucking god, it's Delta."

"You the Army Regular guys that got sent down here?" Undertone questioned.

The man responds with some tired relief. "Y-yeah. Sergeant Paulson 1st Battalion, 18th Infantry Regiment. And these here are Specialist Braun and Private Mèng."

Justice had a good look at the three soldiers for himself. All three of them looked like they had gone through the wringer; Paulson's M16A3 was now laying on his lap at rest and looking emotionally drained, a couple packs filled with HEAT Rockets. Braun seemed more concerned with their surroundings, his eyes darting wildly in every direction, his M249 following him. Mèng meanwhile sat on the ground and looking at the floor, holding her M3 RAWS in her hands and shaking uncontrollably, her M4A1 slung over her shoulder.

"Are you the only ones down here?" Undertone asked.

"Only one's still alive." Paulson replies. "We were the only ones left after those damned..." Paulson flinched as if struck by something, seemingly haunted by a horrible memory. "S-sorry I...it was fucking horrible down here."

Coffin motions over at Mèng. "Is she a Ranger? What's her story?" Justice looked to the young women with a questioning look: he was also wondering what she was doing with the Regulars.

Paulson looks over at Mèng briefly and explains. "Her platoon got hit hard by Ivan and we managed to pick her and some of the survivors of her unit up while we were driving through their sector. But most of her squad bought it along with our own boys."

Justice looked to Paulson questioningly. "So what hit you guys? Who's responsible for this tunnel complex?"

Specialist Braun responds. "Not 'who' man: more like 'What'. We were hunting down a couple Russian squads straggling to slip out of here until one of those... damned freaky things walked in on us and dropped fucking lasers on our asses. Wiped out the Russians and most of us for that matter, but the Cap wanted us to hunt that fucking thing down. So we were sent into this damned tunnel network and... it was a fucking bloodbath."

Patron blinked. "Freaky things? Lasers? You keep talking about freaky things; what they hell are you talking about?" he asked worriedly.

Mèng spoke shakily, her body and her multi-role rocket weapon quaking. "So much screaming... all those lasers. Our guys either disappeared in light or just... went pop. We tried hitting them but... they kept coming. We could see them repair whatever damage we inflected on them. And that sound they make..." she clutched tightly to her weapon as tears started to fill her eyes. "It's like the sounds of hell... how can we fight and win against something like that?" Justice couldn't help but silently wonder what was so bad to spook this Ranger so severely.

After taking a while to absorb all this Undertone ventured a question. "Can we kill these things?" he asked.

"We killed three big ones and four smaller ones, but it killed over a third of our guys to do it." Paulson responds. "Not sure how exactly the best way to do it is but the RAWS is the only thing we have of even remote effectiveness, ran out of ammo for the Mark19 beating them back, that helped a little at least. Our other small arms don't do much against the bigger ones." He suddenly stands and gabs Undertone by his load bearing gear with a look of fear in his eyes. "But I'm telling ya, we take these things head on; were fucking dead. No way in hell you're going to make us do something as suicidal as that. "

Undertone spoke firmly to the Regular. "If these things are a threat then we can't just let them act with impunity. We've got to neutralize them-"

Paulson yelled hoarsely at the Delta Squad leader. "You haven't seen these things man! You haven't fought them! Thiers no way we can take these fucking things!"

"Yo, calm down!" Coffin pushed the soldier off his squad leader, trying to part them from each other. "Get your shit squared away!"

Then the sound of a low groan: one that didn't sound human, echoed through the passageways. The two soldiers tensed at this, and Mèng's head snapped to the direction of the sound, a horrified cry escaping her. Sounds of heavy clanking could be heard echoing through the passage way. The four delta operators glance at each other with foreboding looks.

"Sounds like they heard us. Get ready for contact." Undertone orders.

At this Patron turned to his Staff Sergeant. "Dude, that's a bad idea: I've seen enough horror movies to know how this is going to go down! I say we haul our asses the fuck out of here."

Justice looked down the passageway and saw what looked to be... something moving towards them. Whatever it was it was large, moved on four legs and had a large weapon mounted underneath it. The sound of what was akin to a whale being stabbed by a harpoon seemed to emanate from the direction of the unidentified contact, piercing his ears.

Mèng cried out in terror, trying to withdraw into a ball in onto herself. "THEY'RE HERE! THEY'RE GOING TO KILL US!"

Patron was starting to panic. "Oh SHIT man! This is the part where the monsters kill every one of us!"

Undertone grabbed Mèng and forced her to her feet. "Get the RAWS up! Take cover by the Humvee and fire on my mark, everyone else prepare to engage!" He turned to Braun. "Hey have you got C4?!" he asked.

"In the Humvee." the Specialist replied.

"Grab it and give it to Justice here. Everyone else get prone and prepare to engage on my order!" The seven soldiers quickly took their positions as the hostile's start approaching. Once everyone was in their firing positions Justice sighted his target and waited for the word. Mèng took cover by the Humvee with Paulson beside her, ready and waiting to reload the RAWS. Once they got within effective range of the RAWS Undertone gave the order. "Light em up!"

With their weapons opening fire on the contacts the seven servicemen put as much lead as they could down range, rounds were clearly smacking into their targets but were not having much effect. Mèng fired the RAWS, the rocket hitting one of the walker like "things". The entity staggered after the impact, the explosion momentarily lighting up the passageway. In that instant they could see another two walkers and three airborne craft that look like they were out of some 1930's sci-fi novel. Looked like some sort of small patrolling squad Paulson loaded the RAWS as the others tried to open up. Another shot from the RAWS followed up but screamed passed the walker she was aiming at and instead smacked into another, one of its legs blowing off.

Justice noticed the first walker seemed to be... regenerating! That couldn't be possible! He could see that the entity simply continued moving forward as the damage it inflicted was being repaired steadily before his eyes. As he tried popping rounds into it with his battle rifle he couldn't help but wonder just what else could go sideways today? The answer came when a red glow started to emanate from a point on the wounded entity that was regenerating and fired a bright red bream of light. The beam consumed Coffin, the Delta Operator disappearing in a swath of light.

Justice called out for his fallen battle buddy. "Coffin!"

Patron bleated. "Holy shit man! He's dead! Coffin's KIA! What the fuck are these things?! They're like insane bug zappers from hell!"

Undertone gave the order to fall back as another laser came close to grazing him. "Everyone move! Move! Move! Fallback! Fallback!"

Braun opened up with his M249 while withdrawing on the run, muzzle flashes lighting up the corridor as other weapons fire joined his weapon. Mèng took off running while sobbing uncontrollably in fear and Paulson shouting every curse in the English language while popping a flare every fifty meters for illumination, with his rifle in one hand and the packs of rocket ammunition in the other, with the other remaining members of Viking Team. Occasionally they stopped momentarily to drop rounds downrange but due to what had to have been insanely thick armor and the regenerative abilities of these things they were only able to take down one of these metal monstrosities with a combination of a RAWS rocket followed up with an insanely lucky shot from Patron's FN40GL, the 40mm grenade impacting someplace inside the vehicle, causing it to explode in a brilliant explosion of shards.

Undertone pointed down the passageway. "This way, we've got to get to the surface!" he urged.

This continued for a while, the six troopers running and stopping occasionally to exchange fire with the hostile force. Justice didn't know how they were supposed to effectively fight these things, his mind reeling in panic. However while running, another laser fired went off and bisected Braun, the man screaming as he was cut in two. He screamed for a few seconds longer until his life slipped away from him.

Paulson stopped Mèng and forced her to take a knee. "Hold here!" Justice stopped alongside the pair and fired off a few rounds from his HK417, he had to empty the entire mag but his rounds managing to knock the retro looking airborne craft out of the air and onto the ground. He quickly reloaded his battle rifle and continued to fire his all his rounds off, this time at yet another airborne craft, which similarly was knocked out of the air. Unfortunately they still appeared functioning: the first he shot down, though damaged slowly started to fly up into the air.

"I don't want to die! I don't want to die!" the young Ranger sobbed. Everyone else was dumping ammo like there was no tomorrow, but their rounds were doing very little against this hostile adversary.

Justice noticed a small gem of some sort inside the damaged craft that seemed to glow brightly. _That looks important..._ Reloading another mag he dumps half of his 20 round magazine into the craft, each round aimed straight at the gem. It took some effort; a few rounds smacked into the armor around the gem but eventually a couple rounds struck the glowing gem and the craft exploded in a shower of shards.

Paulson reloads the RAWS that the young Ranger shouldered and spoke to her encouragingly, while Patron and Undertone passed them running. "It's okay, I'm right here. If you're dying I'll die right along with ya!" he promised. Once the tube was loaded he gave her a pat on the shoulder. "You're set! Hit em!" Mèng fires the RAWS, the rocket roaring from the tube and smacking squarely into one of the walkers, fouling its aim enough that the laser missed the two soldiers by mere inches, causing them both to bleat loudly.

Justice didn't know how but the walker explodes in a brilliant shower of shards. He wasn't sure just what the deal was with these things. He watched Paulson reload the RAWS for Mèng, but notices one of the craft charging forward. "Hey you two, let's get going!" The trio started running off after Undertone and Patron.

He heard Paulson's voice as they all continued to run. "Here take these, just in case." Justice turned to look at Paulson who was handing him one of the two packs of rockets.

The moment Justice reached out and took the satchel the last flying craft shot a long burst of laser projectiles into Paulson's back, three of said lasers cut clean through him. He grunted and stumbled, he tried to keep running but his legs buckled and he collapsed to the ground. He tried to crawl onward but his life left him quickly, his body slumped and he lay unmoving. Justice cursed and slung the satchel over his shoulder, doing a quick check he counted five rockets left in the satchel. Justice couldn't believe just how bad this was, he almost thought this was an insane nightmare, but heat from laser coming close to grazing his head told him otherwise.

He and the others kept running, only stopping for a few seconds for Justice and Mèng to team up together in operating the RAWS, with Patron and Undertone providing covering fire to distract the hostile "bug zappers from hell". After several meters more a laser seared off both of Undertones legs at the knees. The smell of burning flesh enters Justice's nostrils and his squad leaders screams filling his ears. Justice, Patron and Mèng gathered around the Delta Squad leader.

"Are you alright Staff Sergeant?!" The Delta operator asked.

"God damn it! Fuck!" Undertone looked first turned to Justice and grabbed his rigging. "Justice, you Patron and Mèng; you three make sure those damned fucking bastards don't get back to the surface. You seal them in here, keep em trapped for now until command can figure out how to kill em!"

Justice began trying to help his Squad Leader up. "I am not leaving without you Staff Sergeant! You're getting out of here with us!"

Undertone shoved he younger man away. "I'm dead weight, you go on without me; I'll hold em off."

Patron was incredulous. "Hold em off with what?! A fucking pea shooter!? Those things just killed Coffin and those other two guys! How the fuck will we supposed to-" Am errant laser takes off Patrons head, killing him mid sentence. Mèng cries out in panic while Justice curses repeatedly, another of his friends; dead.

"Son of a bitch!" Undertone hastily passes off the C4 to Justice and gives him his final orders, taking his dog tags off and handing them to Justice. "You two live ya hear me! Both of you get the fuck out of here! GO! MOVE! THAT'S AN ORDER! GO!"

Though he hesitates, Justice finally complies with the order to go on, with Mèng following close behind. The two of them continue as they hear the sounds of Undertone's M4A1 echoing through the passage. After several hundred meters the pair stop by the mouth of the entrance, with Mèng covering him with the RAWS. Justice quickly sets up the C4 by the mouth of the entrance as well as by a few supports around the Holland tunnel's walls, with hopes of either collapsing the concrete structure on top of the "Bug zappers" or perhaps even flooding the whole tunnel if need be. No sooner does he finish setting the C4 a pair of the metal monsters approach; a walker and one of the flying craft, leading another two walkers.

He goes up to Mèng with the detonator in hand and taps her shoulder. "Pop a round off on em and let's go! I'll blow it once we get clear!" No way he's going to let these bastards get away with what they've done to his squad. He's going to either bury them or drown them, either one was fine as long as they were dead.

Mèng fires off a round aimed at the walker but at the same time the flying craft jukes into the path of the rocket while firing a laser burst, exploding brilliantly, the shockwave stressing the walkers metal shell. The weapons fire stitches its way across Mèng's chest and leg and into Justices arm and shoulder. An intense pain burned into him as he felt his flesh parting and burning before the projectiles, as though he was just stuck with a branding iron. Both he and Mèng cry out painfully, and the Ranger's legs buckle. Justice tries to hold her up and starts trying to help her away from the mouth of the hell they were now leaving.

The sound of a monstrous, inhuman screech goes off behind them. They get about thirty meters away from the hole in the ground, one of the walkers stopping to at the mouth to fire a pair of lasers at their general direction, cutting past them and nearly killing them. No choice now. Justice pressed the detonator. The explosion goes off and obliterates the one walker and the craft, concrete catering and blasting rubble everywhere, the supports becoming weakened and water ominously starts to seep though the stress marks made from the blast. Another walker crawls up through the mouth of the tunnel system but the collapsing of the weakened concrete ceiling falls and buries the walker and fills the hole.

Justice pant's heavily as he struggles to carry the wounded Ranger using him as a human crutch. With Mèng limping painfully next to Justice he leads her out of the tunnel and towards the cover of a ruined building, the faint sound of the inhuman screech echoing the tunnel behind them, followed by the sudden rush of water. His squad... his battle brothers had fallen to this new... monstrous enemy. Hatred grew in his heart for these "things", and if he had any say in it, he was going to destroy every single last one of them.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking...<strong> **Moriz Glazkov...**

**Affiliation... Inner Circle...**

**Location...Somewhere south of Avezzano...**

**Time: 10:05 hours...**

Screams from the room of the dilapidated house rang out painfully. The prisoners were stubborn, the wretched sons of dogs refusing to give any information to him or his men. It had been over seven hours of continual torture to his prisoners but as of yet they didn't break. As enjoyable as it was to see one of the men whimpering in pain and misery he knew that he had an objective he had to accomplish. As Moriz looked over the map his subordinates had found in an old jeep that those American Esq. soldiers he found very little adding up. The map had names of places in the world and even boundaries between the nations drastically changed. He found that the on the map Russia was dubbed Orussia. Just what the hell kind of a name was that: "Orussia?" It was just Russia with an "O" at the beginning? Who the hell would come up with such an uncreative name as that?

Regardless he knew that intelligence was going to be a key factor to his success or failure under Makarov's command. He had ordered his many of his men into scouting patrols to gather intelligence on their current geographic location some five hours ago. Before he could continue looking over a transmission came up over on his radio:

"Sir, this is Unit-4-1, we have something urgent to report."

Moriz grunted. "Report Sergeant, what are your findings?"

"We are reporting the discovery of a what appears to be a base located in Pescara. We are currently two miles out from its location, the men we have sent to get a closer look have just returned to with the total unit strength of this base... but..."

"A base then? What's the matter, what about this base is the issue?"

"Thiers roughly a small company of men ranging just over 100 personnel who..." The man hesitated for a moment then continued."Sir they bear weapons and uniforms from the 1940's, from various nations. There have also confirmed that... it also seems to be that there are a few children, young girls, on base and they seem to be underdressed; they wear uniforms but are walking around bottomless sir. No pants, trousers, skirts or shorts of any sort."

This was starting to become a very large puzzle, it was becoming difficult to try an piece together the mystery that was starting to unfold, why were these men donning vintage, surplus uniforms and antiquated weapons. Nothing about that even had begun to add up. The only thing that made any remote amount of sense was that there were young girls on this base that seemed to be without pants, skirts or shorts, from what was described to him. Moriz had the impression that these young girls were simply part of a "comfort battalion" for the men stationed at this military facility. With Makarov himself running a human trafficking operation to help ring in funds for his plans it was of no surprise.

While Makarov had run money laundering thanks to connections in Russian and Ukranian banking to clean money earned in drugs and weapons dealings through transfers to Cyprus, Lebanon, Saudi-Arabia and Syria, in addition to providing muscle and safe passage of the Russian section of the Herdin Trail from the poppy fields of Afghanistan to run drugs; it was Makarov's human trafficking that raked in the most profit for their cause, moving women tricked with promises of well paid jobs only to be forced into prostitution from the poorer parts of Eastern Europe to Western Europe for cliental across the European continent, the Persian Gulf and even underground buyers in the United States. Glazkov dabbled in some of these side ventures while serving in the Innercricle, but the one he enjoyed and participated in the most besides field operations was Makarov's human trafficking rings: a field he excelled at.

Quite a few times he was fortunate enough to "inspect" and even "sample" the merchandise. His hand slowly glides to his holstered FN Five Seven as he remembers with fondness of those times, recalling how he got to exert power, control and dominance over these young women in a way that brought him great pleasure and joy, he'd dare say it was almost much more so than actual intercourse. A few times he even found himself fortunate enough to have his fun with exceptionally young girls; his favored prizes.

Thoughts of this one girl in the Ukraine he brought back with him a few years ago, around seven at the time... she was around twelve years old now... he got to spend a lot of time with her whilst conducting his own personal "sessions" with her, and was his most treasured spoil of war. A rather beautiful, exotic child who had a beauty and look that he had never seen before or since; her hair long and of a pewter color, beautiful grey eyes and fair skin. Although he first thought to himself how much an exotic, one of a kind flower like this could be and have her virginity auctioned off for billions by the richest buyers in the deep underbellies of the world, he found that she was too desirable to part with or for any other person to have or her maiden hood taken. She was like the most rare, expensive, well aged wine or a new model of Lamborghini being the only type of it's line in existence ever manufactured. So instead of making a profit out of her, which would have been far beyond substantial, she would be his to covet... and this girls virginity his to take, not long after she was taken from her home all those years ago...

She was kept back securely at his own safe house that was established near Ust-ilmsk in Russia. He was hoping that he would be able to return from wherever this strange place was, so his "little comfort" could ease the stress of his long, tiring and dangerous days in the field. And more importantly, to enact his control and dominance over her...

His musings of his "little comfort" were interrupted when the man on the radio spoke questioningly to a comrade. "What? Are you sure?" Another brief exchange of words between the man and his squad mate pass and the man continues his report. "Sir, there's more: we have also confirmed a small platoon of American military personnel on the base with modern gear and weapons. They seem to be embedded with the personnel of this base."

"Are you sure of this?" he asked with a pressing tone.

"We are sure, sir."

Moriz drew an even breath. The if the American's he knew of were here... then it was his duty to hunt them all down. He decided that a raid under cover of dusk would be one of the better times to strike: he had the element of surprise and enough support from BTR's, and a single T-90 tank and heavy weapons to provide a means of crushing his sworn enemy, the decadent greed of American's who championed the evils of capitalism.

The tank itself was originally a part of a Russian Armored battalion that apparently wound up in this strange world from an assault in America. When they got here the tanks crew were lost, confused and stressed from having to escape from what appeared to them to be Venice, which seemed to be under attack by... something. This tank and its crew were on the move for a while before Glazkov and his men crossed paths with them and waved them down to talk with them. After speaking with them he had the idea that the tank could prove useful to their cause and asked the crew to join him and his men. The crew was highly suspicious of this and asked who he was and what unit he was in control of. Although Moriz tried to spin a yarn that he was a Russian Special Operations Unit, the crew was still hard-pressed to believe it. So he decided to take the expedient route and killed the crew and ordered three men who had prior tank experience from when they had served in the 4th Guards Kantemirovskaya Tank Division, an elite armored division in the Russian Ground Forces to operate the tank. The T-90 was a bit newer then the tanks they previously had driven, but they knew enough to operate it effectively.

Glazkov heard the sound of footsteps enter the door behind him, followed by the snapping of his subordinate coming to attention, awaiting to be addressed. He continued into the radio, ignoring the man behind him at the moment. "Very well then, fall back to the designated Checkpoint and await for reinforcement. If our enemy is here we shall converge upon them and destroy them, as well as any who calls them friend. С нами Бог." with the radio transmission complete He turned to the young Inner circle operator questioningly. "Well, what have you to report?"

The man responds with a salute. "Sir, we have used every method to try and break them, but they will not give us information on President Vorshevsky's route of escape or how many agents are still protecting him."

His mouth drew into a frown. "Then they are useless to us: knowledge that we cannot access will not grant us advantage. Liquidate and dispose of them. We have bigger problems to deal with, like figuring out a way to return to our mission of finding President Vorshevsky, he is vital to our plans . But equal importance is the destruction of our enemy. American's are also in this strange place... they must be eliminated, then we can move onward to finding our way home."

"And how do we do that, sir?"

Moriz smiles. "The people here are weak: the men we encountered were undisciplined and untrained for us, they fumbled for their weapons whereas we acted on highly trained reaction and focused instinct, and they use inferior weapons compared to our own. We are superior in force, training, weaponry and skill against any men they have on the base that had just been reported to me. We will dominate them though fear, and if they do not know it upon meeting us they will soon learn it, even if it is brokered through blood. They will help us because they must, or they will die." He then dismissed his subordinate with a final order. "Get the men ready: tell them to gather weapons, gear and whatever ammo we have, and to conserve ammunition once the order to engage has been given. Understood?"

"Understood sir!"

With that the young man leaves the room. Moriz takes the opportunity to gaze upon the map, looking over the topography so the base in question for the now upcoming raid. With the nearby hills it would be advantageous to place the BTR's and the one tank they had on that ridge line for fire support while the trucks and GAZ vehicles breach the compound in a fast assault. But first he would need to send in a team on ahead to beach the parameter and disrupt the enemy's assets and personnel. Mobility, concealment and timing was key to this mission.

After getting the first half of his plans established, the sound of a pistol discharging once, then twice can be heard a couple rooms down. Paying little mind to the report of the pistol, he moved on to the next phase of the plan.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Sergeant Major Jenna Foster...<strong>

**Affiliation...78th Tame Witches Combined Reserve Squadron...**

**Location... 501st Witches Base Romagna...**

**Time: 16:47 hours, One day prior to Darya's assignment to Duty Desk...**

She moved with a bounce in her step and a bouquet of flowers in her hands behind her back, her face radiating with loving joy as she neared the post op ward. She was once again going to pay a visit to her beloved Orussian Snowflake. Each and every evening the Liberion Land Battle Witch had kept her punctual visits with her Orussian lover. Upon entering the post op she was met with Erin Taylor in a bed by one of the windows and currently sleeping with a content smile on her face, and of course, was the woman that Jenna had come to love, seemingly lost in thought.

Or at first glance it seemed as such. But before she could approach, Jenna studied her beloved from afar and saw that she looked troubled by something. _Come to think of it she seemed like this for while now._ Whatever was a ailing her lovers mind, Jenna would ensure that her Orussian Snowflake was happy.

Jenna smiles and glides flowingly over to her beloved. "And theirs my Orussian snowflake..." she says with a loving tone.

Darya looked up, the moment she saw Jenna a warm look entered her eyes. "My Liberion Flame!" When she was close enough to her, the little Orussian embraced her beloved, planting a kiss upon Jenna's cheek. After parting from the warm embrace Darya looks with a shine in her eyes. "Jenna, have you been doing alright? I've heard about the sortie you and the others had to head out for."

"Yeah, we had some Neuroi to deal with, not to mention some new arrivals. Had to help get those guys some rooms to bed down for the night. Quite a bit of them if I do say so."

"I see, it sounds like you were kept busy my love."

"I'll say, but it was nothing I couldn't handle." But her faces smile straightened and she wore a passive expression. "But that's not that important." Jenna took a seat on the bed and she reached out absently to Darya's left leg. "How about you: are you doing alright? Are you..." Jenna paused and looked at the place at the bed where Darya's legs lay when she didn't feel Darya's left leg. But then... she realized she wouldn't feel her lover's left leg anymore... it was gone. She noticed how the outline of her dearest Darya's legs were no longer matching up: from the look of the sheets covering her, one leg was shorter than the other. It was at this moment she felt suddenly wracked with guilt. Darya's injury had always haunted Jenna. She felt responsible for her. She had known Darya for a few years now, but now both of them had to adapt to the new reality of Darya's injury. It was clear that it will be a difficult road still ahead.

"Am I...?" Darya had a questioning look on her face, but she then saw where Jenna's eyes were focused on and looked down at her stump, which was at this moment covered by her bed sheets. Darya's face turned sorrowful and she spoke in a wavering voice. "Jenna... I'm sorry... I... I see how you look at me. I know it is difficult... to have to see me like this..."

Jenna had a look of panic on her face as she turned her gaze to Darya's eyes. "W-what do you mean?! Where is this coming from?!"

"I'm just... I'm just so afraid that... because of my injury: that my Liberion flame may not find me beautiful anymore! I don't want to lose you! I still want to be a part of your life, Jenna; please don't leave me!" the younger girl started to cry, her hands covering her face in sorrow.

Jenna then realized with horror why Darya was troubled the moment she walked in to see the bed ridden girl. Just how long had she held this fear: that she feared that Jenna might leave her due to being seen as unseemly or repulsive because of her missing leg? Jenna leaned forward with a desperate look on her face as she reached for one of her weeping lovers hands. "No, no! That's not true at all: You_ are_ beautiful Darya! You'll always... always will be beautiful to me." She then produced the bouquet from behind her back for her beloved. "I love you Darya. I can never say enough how much I love you and how important you are in my life. Without you my life is meaningless. Without you I am lost. Without you... I am nothing."

At first surprised by the bouquet Darya looked at her beloved Liberion with hesitation. "Do you... really mean that?"

Jenna nods. "I wouldn't leave you even if it meant if my staying by your side got me killed: I'd stay anyways. I'm sorry if I have been acting... well..." After some hesitation Jenna explained herself. "After you got hurt I just... felt so guilty... I allowed you to get hurt. I made a promise when we met that I would protect you and I failed you; I broke that promise." She tenderly placed her hand on Darya's stump. "But I swear: I'll never break it ever again." she declared solemnly.

"Jenna..." Darya tearfully gazed at the bouquet in surprise, then slowly took them, her face softened into relief, moved by Jenna's words. One flower in the arrangement caught her eye the most. "An Orussian Red lily... my favorite. How were you able to find one? It's hard to get a hold of an Orussian Red Lily outside of my homelands boarders."

Jenna smiled sheepishly. "Well, I had to really look long and hard for a shop that could import it in. When the man found out I was a witch, he really went out of his way to try and ship a couple in, even though I only needed the one, but he said it would be good for next time. I put in an order for it a month ago, and it finally arrived, I'm glad he was able to even find them. Even gave me a discount for next time I go to see him." She laughed a bit while remembering the shopkeeper. "He was a bit of a romantic that guy."

"And to think... I was foolish enough to fear that you'd leave me." Darya set aside the flowers on a nearby dresser and embraced Jenna once more. "My Liberion Flame, I am so happy... I'm so grateful to have you in my life. You make my heart take flight."

"And you give my heart strength to push forward, my Orussian Snowflake." Jenna gave her beloved a deep, passionate kiss that was soon returned. Both girls held tightly to each other, not wishing to be apart from each other, becoming lost in a sea of passion.

Darya then pulled Jenna unto the bed, laying back with her Liberion lover now on top of her. She gave her a passionate, beckoning look, her familiars features appearing. "Will you bed with me tonight, my love?"

Jenna's face let off a light blush and she smiled warmly, a light blue glow radiated from her body as her familiar came forth. The Liberion girl always found her Orussian lover to be so cute. "Anything for you Darya." With her hand caressing the little Orussian's face she wrapped her lips around Darya's mouth. Her little lover's injury may require time to adjust to, but that wasn't important. Was important was that they were sill together. Both girls loving hands soon found their way to intimate places on each other's bodies, gliding under cloth fibers and resting upon warm, soft anatomy with a gentle, loving touch...

Pushing up her lovers medical gown and exposing her body, Jenna went to work on her beloved Darya's small breasts, kissing and massaging them, electing soft moans of pleasure from the Orussian girl. After several minutes Jenna's right hand moved between Darya's legs and began massaging the smaller girls pussy. Darya gasped as the sudden wash of pleasure danced across her snatch. Each menstruation of her most sacred place was sending Darya into ecstasy.

"Jenna... right there. It feels so good."

Jenna gave her lover a soft smile. "What would you like me to do for you tonight, Darya? Would you like me to give an oral performance?"

Darya's hand reached for her beloved Liberion and caressed Jenna's face. "No, something different tonight." she responds with a breathless pant. "I want to be together with you; yours with mine."

Jenna gave a warm, broad smile to the women that her heart ached for. "You want to try tribadism for tonight?" At Darya nodding affirmatively with a blush, Jenna blushed in return. "It's been a while since we did that. But sure... if that's what you want, then I'm at your command my Orussian Snowflake."

It wasn't long before Jenna was out of her uniform completely and Darya's medical gown was cast aside, both girls bodies now exposed to each other. At her lovers request Jenna straddled her beloved Orussian, her womanhood pressed up against the smaller girl's own. As they looked into each other's eyes, both girls knew that there was no one else in the world they would rather be with at this moment then with each other. As Jenna slowly began to make love to Darya, she was overcome with emotion. There was nothing more precious in this life then her beloved Orussian Snowflake...

As Jenna was grinding against Darya waves of pleasure came to her. Her beloved Orussian's voice became husky as the two girls made love to each other. Jenna wanted to be close to her beloved. She wanted to bring her lover pleasure. One of Jenna's hands reached for Darya's breast as she felt her pussy tingle with that wonderful sensation that was building between her legs.

For the next hour and fifteen minutes the two girls touched, kissed, licked and grinded themselves into a sea of pleasure wrought by the love in their hearts that they had for each other, each thrust and gyration of their hips brought the two girls to a new step in ecstasy. Their juices started to run freely from their pussy's as their pleasure was building. Warmth was running from their cores to their extremities, sweat was glistening off of Darya's beautiful, porcelain white skin. Darya was the most beautiful girl in the world; Jenna knew that many people in love would have said that about their lovers, but she believed that none were more beautiful than her Orussian girlfriend.

Darya's voice came with a husky moan. "Jenna... Jenna, it... it feels so good. I love you. I love you, my Liberion flame!"

"Darya. I love you with all my heart." While still grinding with her smaller lover Jenna leaned forward and gave her beloved Darya a kiss that lasted for several minutes. Once the kiss ends Jenna could feel the familiar pressure within her building to its fast approaching plateau. "D-darya. I'm... I'm going to cum!"

Darya's eyes were half open by now, the small girl lost in the pleasure that was overwhelming her. "I can't take... much more... my love, cum with me."

"Darya..." Jena could feel the build up hitting its peak.

Darya's hands clutched at Jenna's wrists tightly, trying to pull Jenna even closer to her body, her voice crying out loudly in passion. "My Liberion flame. My Liberion flame! My Liberion flame!" When both girls reach their climax their bodies shuddered as the waves of orgasm rocked their nerves. Their minds swam drunkenly, their hearts beating at quickened tempos set by their love for each other. Jenna brought Darya upright and held the younger girl so as to be straddled by her. They both silently look at each other with warm, loving looks. They both kissed once more, a long, tender, loving kiss that reached deeply for each other. Once they parted Darya spoke warmly, a few tears rolling down her face. "I love you... my Libeiron flame."

Jenna smiled and hugged her beloved. "And I you, my Orussian Snowflake." The land battle witches hand slowly traveled to Darya's crotch and began to rub her pussy, electing a passionate gasp from her little Orussian. "Would you like to keep going, sweetheart?"

"Yes my dear Jenna: I want to make love to you some more. I want to feel your touch on me."

A sudden voice came from the corner of the post op ward, startling both girls. "You know that's the sixth time you guys woke me up with your love making session, right?"

Jenna's head snapped to the Faraway Lander's bed with a red blush. "Oh shit! Erin!"

"I wouldn't mind watching so much if it weren't for the fact that I'm trying to catch forty freaken winks here."

Darya's face turned extremely red from her forehead to her neck in embarrassment. "Y-you saw us!? For how long!?"

Erin smiled. "Would you get mad if I said: the whole time?" she asked cheekily. Both girls had a look of horror on their faces but then Erin sighed. "Hey, don't let me interrupt you, just try and keep the love making session quieter please, I want to be well rested for my trip back home to see my mom and dad. With my arm gone I've got my ticket home, so I want to make sure I have enough energy to meet my folks."

"R-right, s-sorry comrade Erin." Darya paused then ventured a question sternly. "You're not going to watch us the entire time, are you?! It was bad enough when Erzsi had been peeping on us from the bushes during our intimate moments."

Jenna sighs. "Yeah, she's a real pervert. Hate to think we might have another to deal with."

Erin brought the covers of her bed over her head and groaned. "I'm too tired tonight to watch you two fuck like tigers: I'm going to be sawing logs. Alright? So don't go comparing me to that perverted, Ostmarkian Medic."

Jenna sighs. "I guess... thanks." Jenna then looked empathetic to her comrade Land Battle Witch. "And Erin... I hope things turn out well for you. You were a damn good witch, you know that?"

After a moments silence Erin respond quietly. "...thanks... may not have been a great ride for me... but I'm glad at least it was with you guys... you both really are beautiful together. You know that? I wish the best for your two... so yeah... night."

Jenna couldn't help but feel moved by Erin's words, it felt a little rough having to see their friend go, but with an injury to the arm like that there was little to be done. But they were glad for her friendship, and that of the other 78th Tame witches. She turned to Darya with a look of passion. "Shall we continue, my beautiful Orussian?" she whispered into her lovers ear.

"Da." Came her reply. "After we're done for tonight, will you cuddle with me my love?"

"I was hoping you'd ask me that." Jenna gave Darya another kiss. Knowing them she knew they were going to be at this for another hour and a half. Not that she minded: it would be an hour and a half more with the women she loved. And she would treasure every second she held her beloved in her arms.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Sergeant Erzsi Kalmar...<strong>

**Affiliation... 78th Tame Witches Combined Reserve Squadron...**

The two young witch lovers were so wrapped up in each other's loving presence that they didn't notice a particular burgundy headed pervert watching from the shadows around the door to the post op. The Ostmark witch already had a hand down her panties, already soaking wet from watching and masturbating to her squad mates love making session. There were three things Erzsi loved the most in life; the first was her dream of being a gifted Surgeon and witch of healing magic; wanting to bind the wounds and heal the ailments of others. The second was teasing people a little and making people happy, bring a little excitement to the lives of others. And finally there was, of course, her favourite pastime: anything involving sex.

It didn't matter if it was a man or a woman; so long as she got to share herself and be with an attractive looking, interesting person who treated her right in bed she didn't mind who it was with. Although she couldn't really do very much with the men; it took a lot of effort to even get to, as Clotilda put it, third base with guys, never mind that home plate which was pretty much off the table: military regulations would have insured that she and any guy who would've had intercourse with her were punished severely. So with that in mind she often refrained going that far, to keep from getting in serious trouble if nothing else. But it was better to get first, second and sometimes when she was lucky, third base than have nothing, and at least she could go through each and every "base" as it were with the girls. A lot of times Erzsi found herself in bed with a lot of girls, wither witch or non-witch. Apparently many of the people she was with thought her to be, as they put it "cute" and "energetic", definitions that Erzsi liked hearing.

As she watched her friends going at it, the red headed voyeur was smiling broadly with a red blush on her face."Those two are beautiful together. I can't believe I'm lucky enough to watch this." Erzsi's breath was ragged and her body was radiating warmth from her core and intimate regions. "Oh, heh, heh, looks like Darya just took the lead. You go girl, let's see a little fire beneath that snowy exterior." Erzsi's eyes gave a twinkle of excitement; this was by far the steamiest love making session she had seen from these two. And hopefully there would be more to come...

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Flying Officer Eila Ilmatar Juutilainen...<strong>

**Affiliation... 501st Joint Fighter Wing, Strike Witches...**

**Location: Camp Shelby Hattiesburg, Mississippi...**

**Status: Two days prior to Darya's assignment to Duty Desk; Five seconds after rune transportation from New York...**

**Time: 6:11:03...**

Eila and Sanya were walking hand in hand with each other while the Wing commander and the Major were currently trying to get information from the duty desk. Thinking about the meeting that took place and the depressing news that they had received. All that work, all that effort, all that hope; for nothing. Now what were they to do? Eila couldn't help but mull over her own thoughts as well as her the world she and the others were now in. As both she and Sanya crossed the base grounds of this strange world, Eila could see the eyes of the base personnel shifting towards them in confusion.

_Man... what is up with these people? It's like they've never seen witches before._ After a moment passes Eila had a realization. _Well... I suppose they probably haven't. I guess they really don't have witches in this world. Still, it feels weird with people just looking at us like we're weirdo's or something. _Eila drew Sanya a little closer to herself out of instinctual protectiveness. She really wasn't liking the fact their eyes kept falling on them.

As they kept walking passed the prying eyes falling on them they noticed a large colum of trucks and an assortment of other vehicles. Eila was amazed at just how many vehicles were rolling into the compound. As they watched the convoy roll past Minna and Mio walked together with Flight Lieutenant's Dominica Gentile and Jane Godfrey, who apparently were also portaled into this world and brought to Camp Shelby. It was a lot for all of them to absorb; such a strange and turbulent world they now found themselves in. The four girls met up with Elia and Sanya with both girls giving the two Liberion witches their salutations.

"So tell me Flight Lieutenant Gentile, what do you make of this world in the time you've been here." Minna asked the lackadaisical Liberion.

Dominica shrugged. "Kind of weird when I first heard of it. Actually being here is even weirder, ya know. Little surreal seeing some parts looking similar and different all at once, ya know."

Jane nodded. "But all at the same time it still is kind of... familiar. Sort of. Like even though we've left home, it feels almost like we sort of haven't."

Dominica looked to Jane. "That's exactly what I was thinking, right? Can't believe the Neuroi really dragged us here."

Mio looked rather sternly at the mention of the Neuroi. "So more came though here. Probably trying to raise a stronger garrison of units to engage us, no doubt. They already laid siege to our world, now they are fighting this world too."

Dominica looked skeptical. "They didn't seem like they were itching for a bout in the ring, if you know what I'm saying. Looked more like they just wanted to cut out and throw the game."

Eila raised an eyebrow. "You mean they were just running scared?"

"Maybe, if they weren't feeling yellow at least they wanted to regroup or something. Fighting looked like the last thing they wanted on their plate."

Minna looked thoughtful once this information was presented. "It's possible that they knew their numbers were small; it's feasible that they wanted to avoid direct engagement so they could regroup with any allied units and establish a beach head to increase their numbers in this world. Beyond that we can only guess what their plans entail."

Sanya looked the Wing Commander questioningly. "Mamm, is it true that the Colonel of the base wanted to talk to you about something?"

Minna nods affirmatively. "He got in touch with his countries commander and chief, the president of the United States of... America, I believe. I was there for the online conference and they decided that the Neuroi threat is dire enough that that it would be a good thing for both us and themselves if they arranged for new technologies, weapons, troops and R&D personnel to help us in our war with the Neuroi. They are currently mopping up what few Russian stragglers are left in their homeland and have plans to deploy a majority of their forces to commit to a counter offensive, but they recognize just how dire a threat the Neuroi pose: they cannot ignore it."

"I see." Sanya conceded simply.

"They say the Eastern Seaboard of the continent is secure, but that they are still trying to take back the Western Seaboard. It's being contested as we speak."

"Sounds like a lot of work on their hands." Mio mused.

Eila sighed. "That's good and all, but I just really hope that Krupke bastard doesn't decide to pay us another visit for some of this stuff. Having to meet him once was far more than enough."

Quite suddenly, they noticed a large amount of shouting at the end of the base where the convoy had came to a halt and the soldiers dismounting their vehicles. On that side was a place on the base that served to house a handful of displaced civilian's from the sounding states. It appeared that a group of around a dozen people were holding up signs and belting out things that the girls weren't able to hear quite well, but they were surrounded by many other civilians who were arguing with them. One solider seemed to be trying to advance upon the group combatively with the signs but was being held back by two of his comrades in arms.

Eila seemed to wonder what this was about and decided to investigate this odd development. "Come on, Sanya." she urges.

Dominica and Jane exchanged a momentary glance, but Dom then shrugged. "Why the hell not, may as well see what the heck all the commotion is about." Both girls follow after Eila and Sanya, with Jane waving to Minna and Mio.

The four witches approached the large gaggle that had formed around what appeared to be some sort of protesters. Many civilians crowded around the people with signs booing , jeering and arguing with the group. Most of the soldiers may have kept their distance from the two groups, but many of them had clear looks of rage in their eyes directed at the people with signs.

As they approached Eila noticed Dunn and Foley, who have been keeping some distance away from the group that had been causing the disturbance. "Foley? Dunn?!" she exclaimed.

Both men turn around and noticed the four girls approaching. Dunn's face lit up at recognising her. "Eila! Holy shit, how the hell did you get here?!" he asked in amazement.

"Erica's sister helped up get here, she refined the MAPPED technology. Thanks to that, we have an easier way to come and go from both our realities. Though she's still trying to mass produce more and work out some of the kinks in the design."

"Really, no fooling?" after a pause he poses a question. "Hey I gotta ask you; did James wind up back with you guys again or what?" he asked.

Eila blinked. "Huh? You mean he got ported back to our world?"

Foley nods. "That's right, happened a little over a day ago, give or take, along with some of our men. Not to mention that more Neuroi found their way into our country. Apparently it wasn't the only anomaly either. Things might be getting pretty unstable on that level or something."

"Damn... that's not good..." she sighed. Sanya clung tightly to Eila, a look of worry crossing her face.

"Our boys and the Neuroi kind of came to blows with each other, but our men had it pretty bad. Though Ivan did little better, so there's that at least." Foley then looked to the other two girls and cocked an eyebrow, not recognizing either of them. "And who might this be? I don't believe we ever met."

Jane nods and gives a nervous smile. "Ah! Right, how rude of us. We didn't introduce ourselves: I'm Jane T. Godfrey, and this is my wife, Dominica S. Gentile."

Dominica rests her arms behind her head with a passive look on her face. "Hey, how are you guys doing?"

"Wife?" Dunn turns to Foley, both of them exchanging a surprised look before the Corporal looks back to the two Liberion girls. "Your both a bit young to be married don't ya think? I mean granted your from another reality with different laws and everything ... but..."

Dominica wears an intense look. "I don't see what the problem is: I love Jane, Jane loves me. Why wouldn't we get married?" she asked flatly.

"Well..." Dunn seemed to think about it for a minute but he seemed to be less reserved. "I guess I don't have any real problem. I mean it's a rather serious deal here in our world, but if you two are happy together then hey, I got no beef." An uncomfortable look crossed his face when he turned to the group that was being confronted by civilians. "I'd just avoid letting people know about that around here, at least for the moment."

"What for?" Dominica demands. She followed Dunn's gaze and motions towards the group with signs. "Who the hell are those guys, anyway?"

Foley had a clear look of disgusted frustration on his face as he shook his head. "All you need know is that they are a damned embarrassment to our country. Girls, trust me when I say that it's best people from your world don't come near those damn idiots." He looked to Dom and Jane concern written on his face. "That goes double for you two lovely girls."

Eila saw that Dominica had a sharp glint in her eyes, clearly she wanted to get to the bottom of what this situation was or why they shouldn't let it be known that she and Jane are married to each other. She walked off to the group, with Jane hesitating for a brief moment but soon trailing after her beloved Dom. Eila and Sanya followed, despite some cautioning objections from Dunn, not to mention her magical foresight, while somewhat weak at the moment, was still predicting warnings that something unpleasant is about to happen. When the four witches got closer they could hear the one of the people with the signs speaking to a young man.

"The lord's good book says that for a man to lay with another man is a sin, and his soul be damned to burn in hell." Said the man with a pair of signs in both hands. "God is punishing this wicked country for its sins and the crime of allowing homosexuals to marry!"

The young man spoke with a furious passion in his voice against this inflammatory droning. "Do you even realize what the hell your even saying?! How does the Russian's invading our country and killing our people have ANYTHING to do with gay marriage and wither God approves of it or not?!"

"It's punishment for the sins of this country for going against the laws written in Leviticus! You're fag enabling will only doom yourself and the rest of this country, eliciting god's wrath while we faithful of his will shall find salvation! Gods hatred shall strike you down, and shall strike down other sinners, heathens and agents of evil!"

"Seriously? Leviticus? It's the same damn passage that says that it's a sin to eat shellfish and wear clothing with two different types of fabric and that anyone breaking those laws should be stoned to death! So I ask you: why the fuck aren't you boycotting red lobster or throwing away those clothes your wearing, which, judging from the brand have two kinds of fabric in them, you horses ass!?" A couple of the other people behind the younger man nod and raise their voices in agreement.

Even with that brief exchange, Eila was already quite frustrated with the older man with the signs, and from what she could see so was Flight Lieutenant Gentile. Eila approached with Sanya's hand in her own and Dom doing the same with Jane. "Excuse me, just what in the world is all this about?" she asked firmly.

The two men turned to look at the four girls, but the man with the signs spoke first. "Why are you four dressed so provocatively? Why aren't you wearing pants?" he asked in a tone that sounded almost like a demand for explanation.

The young man looked at the four of them with some surprise. "Uh... yeah, are you four alright?" the younger man sounded concerned in comparison.

The four girls looked to each other with confused, hesitant looks. They were in their uniforms, they couldn't understand what the guy meant when he seemed to be accusing them of wearing provocative clothing. Eila sighed and responds evenly. "We're fine, we don't wear pants because of certain circumstances, is it okay if someone could tell us what's going on here?"

The man with the signs studied the four girls with a judgmental look but responds. "We're using our first amendment rights to spread the lords message to those lost in sin. For the wicked evils of this country for enabling homosexuality and going against gods will they shall elect god's wrath and vengeance. He has already acted by sending the Russian's to take the soldiers out of this life for defending a sinful, immoral country and protecting those who have fallen from gods good graces and embraced the temptations of the devil!"

The looks of the three other witches ranged from shock to anger. Eila had a flat look on her face with both her eyebrows raised. After a moment of stunned silence she found her voice. "Where the hell do I even start..." she mutters in annoyance. At this point she was starting to wish she listened to that feeling she had earlier.

The solider being held back by his buddy tries to wrestle free and advance upon the man but is being forcefully dragged off to a safe enough distance. "You bastards keep screaming "thank god for IED's" and "thank god for dead soldiers" while my buddies are giving their very lives for this country and our people and even you! Who the fuck do you think you are, you damned ungrateful sons-a-bitches!? If it weren't for us you'd be mowed down by Russian AK's! I'll kick your fucking asses, every last one of you, ya Westborough Baptist fucks!" The soldier was dragged some distance and held back by his buddies as they tried to calm him down.

"Dude, it's not worth a week in the stockade! Besides we have standing orders that we can't hurt those bastards, and trust me I want to make them into human pretzels too, but think long term; alright?" one man said, trying to quell the other mans rage.

"I don't care! I'm going to plant my combat boot up their assess, god damn it!"

Eila may not have known what a "Westborough Baptist" was but so far she was finding them to be the worst people she has ever met in her entire life, save for Maloney and Krupke. At this distance she could see that the man and his cronies who seemed to be quoting something carried a pair of signs, each one read a hateful slogan worse than the last. Even more horrible it seemed that a lot of the saying were directed at people who were either in love with people of the same gender or in the case of Jane and Dom; people of the same gender who were married. Which in and of itself made no sense, and what's worse is they even decried the soldiers who fought for this country, their own countrymen; it wasn't like the two girls being in love and marrying each other was hurting anyone, so why did these people hate people like The Flight Lieutenant and her wife... or Eila and how she felt for Sanya. Why was it wrong? It couldn't be wrong.

No... it wasn't wrong...

These people were the ones who were wrong.

Before Eila could retort Dominica spoke with a firm tone. "So are you meaning to tell me you have a problem with my wife and I, just because we're married?" She planted her feet and adopted a combative stance. Eila could see she intended to fight this inane bigotry, even head on if she had to.

Jane tried to speak to Dom, trying to hold her beloved wife in check. "Honey, wait-"

The man with the signs and his fellow protesters were aghast. "Wife? Married!? You're both sinners! You're vileness will condemn you to hell! Not enough that you wear such immoral, lewd clothing but to do the devils work by sinning against his will!? You're bound to hell in a breadbasket!"

"What business is it of yours to dictate who I give my love to?" Dominica demands. "It's none of your damn business wither I'm married to my wife or not, so shut up and shove off!" A lot of the civilians that had grouped around were nodding and speaking in agreement.

The soldier being held back by his buddies stops struggling against his squad mates and nods his head with enthusiastic vigor. "Hooah! You tell that asshole what for!"

The man looked offended. "It's the law of god! And the law of the lord almighty is absolute!" The man then turned his eyes to Jane, who flinched at his sudden, sharp gaze and spoke accusingly to her. "And you chose to condemn yourself by choosing to marry this lewd, heathen sinner! You think god will look on you favorably when judgement day comes and your damnation is assured?! You're desires and lust are the work of the devil!"

Jane trembled at the horrid accusations and words that made no sense to her, her eyes started to turn misty as she tried to argue, suddenly overtaken by a rising impulse in the core of her very being. "I don't even know what you're talking about, but if you're saying its evil for me to love Dominica; then you're wrong!" She clutched tightly at Dom's arm and place her other hand over her heart as tears started to pool in her eyes. "My heart belongs to her and only her! I love Dom with every fiber of my being! Our love is no different if it were a man and a women who were in love! I married Dom so I could share my life with her!" The voices of many of those looking on, her fellow witches and even her beloved wife were silent in amazement as the young Liberion girl poured her very soul into her words and as tears threatened to overflow from her eyes. "My mother and father always told me: there is nothing more beautiful in this life then love, no matter what form it takes. When I brought Dom home to meet my parents and told them that we were engaged... other than our wedding, I have never seen them happier then that day. They told me they were so happy and proud that I found someone to share my life with! I love her. She loves me. And we'd fight and die for each other if we had to! I want to stay by her side, forever! And nothing you say will ever change how much I love my Dominica!"

Unlike everyone else, the man and his cronies were unmoved by such sentiment. "May gods wrath strike you and your families down and send all of you into the rotten, fiery pits of hell where eternal bonfire shall consume you, agent of evil!"

Jane flinched in a way that seemed as though she was just struck forcibly. The hateful words cut deeply into the Liberion girl, even though those words held no water. Tears began rolling down her face and she took off running, sobbing as her tears fell to the pavement behind her. Eila's stomach churned at seeing the poor girl looking so distraught. _How could anybody be so dismissive and hateful of someone's feelings like that?_ She silently asked herself. Some part of Eila wondered fearfully if there were more people like these in this world.

"Jane!" Dom looked to her wife and called after her, she seemed about ready to run after the blond-haired girl but she stopped and looked with a seething glare at the man who spoke hatefully of both her and her beloved wing woman. "You made my wife cry... no one makes my wife cry... nobody. I'm going to give you the old one two out of the ballpark, you bastard."

The man stood smugly before Dom with an idiotic grin. "God's will protects me sinner. He shall smite you down before you even try to raise a hand against his chosen disciples!"

Dom glared a little more at the man and then promptly took off after her beloved wife. Elia was beside herself. _How cruel and evil can these people be?! I've never seen anyone so bigoted in my entire life! And he's crazy enough to think he's not only right, but justified to treat people like that!? _She fumed silently.

Before Eila could rebuff the man Sanya spoke from her side. "You said very hurtful and needlessly cruel things to the flight Lieutenants. You have no right to question the legitimacy or morality of their feelings for each other." the small girl said firmly.

The man and a woman next to him snapped to Sanya with looks of derision. "Another fag enabler. There's no salvation for this country, only destruction!" the woman spat.

Eila glared at the two people for giving such a horrid look to her beloved Sanya. She often times tried to keep people from looking at the women she had come to cherish, for fears that someone might want to steal her away. But the idea that someone might become hostile to the Orussian she... felt so strongly for... to do Sanya harm. There was no way in hell she was going to let these horrible people even catch a passing glance at her dearest squad mate. "Stop. Looking. At. Sanya like that..." the Suomus girl hissed through gritted teeth.

The bigoted man then sniffed. "And those two are in the military? God will take the breaths of those who serve the devils will." he spoke callously. "And the same will be for you for allowing such a crime! Love is between a man and a woman! Gay's are an abomination against nature!"

Sanya was becoming distressed and was also becoming teary eyed. That drove Eila to great offence. They were making Sanya... they were making the women she cared for cry! It was unforgiveable! She would never forgive them for doing such a horrible thing. Before she could act upon this sudden impulse to kick the ass of each of these people she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She turned around to find Dunn looking at her with a concerned look, then his eyes looked to the man and he shoot a challenging gaze at him.

"Alright, I think that's about damned enough. Eila, Sanya, you two best seer clear these guys; a pair of good, decent young girls shouldn't be caught dead near garbage."

He slowly ushered Eila and Sanya away from the group but then the man shouted at him. "You are a solider of satin: repent and accept god as the righteous path of salvation or you will be rightfully cast down along side your brothers in uniform!"

At that Dunn wheeled around with a look of rage as his hand shot to his holstered sidearm, but he stopped before drawing it. A look of conflicted thought went through him for a moment, then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, cursed raggedly and then continued to guide Eila and Sanya away from the group of hate mongers.

"Dunn, who the hell were those people?!" Eila demands angrily. "I've never seen anyone that frustrating and horrible in my life!"

Dunn sighs. "The Westborough Baptist Church, and believe me they are a fucking shitty bunch, I'll tell ya. I'm sorry you guys had to experience that... it's really a fucking embarrassment that our country even allows an organization like that to exist... damned nutty cult."

"Just what was their deal anyways? Why do they have a problem with Dominica and Jane getting married, or about girls loving other girls to such a degree?"

Dunn grimaces. "Yeah, the WBC is a group of people who tend to take a lot of religious teachings and use them as an excuse to hurt people. They picket the funerals of dead soldiers and victims of mass shootings and other tragedies because... well for reasons that the ass-hat stated himself. Never could understand it even if I lived to be a hundred."

Eila was completely shocked by this. "That's insane! Why the hell don't you do something about them, make them stop saying stuff like that! Why do you guys have to take that crap, especially when its directed at your fellow soldiers?!"

"Believe me kiddo, I want to. Hell I was..." Dunn hesitated, then sighed. "I almost did something stupid back their... damn those fuckers piss me off. But they have their first amendment rights, even though I think their fucking abusing it and that the clause against hate speech should be in effect stop them... but hell, everyone on base has standing orders to not confront them."

"But why not?! They shouldn't be allowed to say those things; those are just words of ignorant hatred made to hurt people!"

Dunn shrugs. "Orders from the brass." he sighs. "It's a PR issue: the US military can't afford to have its personnel assaulting civilians... even though in this case they are deserving of a hell of a lot more than that. I never understood why they feel the need to bully and harass people like that. Those bastards practically cheer when bad things happen to people that aren't deserving of it..."

Sanya looked up to Dunn with a tearful look. "Please tell me that... not all people in your world are like that... are they, Corporal?"

Dunn had a pained, guilty look on his face at Sanya's question. After a while it settles into an expression of disappointment. "A few... but not all. Those guys are just more noticeable because they make the most noise. They'd throw a shit-fit at the very idea of anybody loving or marrying someone of the same gender just because of what some old damn book may or not say about the matter."

Sanya started to sob quietly and begin quickly ran off. "Sanya!" Eila couldn't bear seeing Sanya so sad, she watched as the witch that made her heart ache for disappear into the base grounds amongst the bustle of bodies and vehicles. She turned to Dunn with a sharp glare, what he had told them had hurt Sanya. She made a low growl in frustration.

Dunn noticed this and deflated, sighing. "I'm sorry kid, the Sarge and I didn't want to see you girls exposed to shit like this.. but I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. Thiers a lot of ugly stuff in our world. But if you really want to know where I stand on the issue... to me: it doesn't matter who you love, so long as it's healthy, consenting and nobodies getting hurt, then everything else is just a trivial detail. I just hope you can believe that..."

Eila's hard look faltered, seeing that Dunn was being genuine. Come to think of it the fact she was mad at him was unwarranted. It wasn't his fault that those people said what they did, if anything he hated them as much as she did. "I... I know. I'm...I'm sorry for getting angry."

"Forget about it kid. I know the feeling, so no worries."

"I... I have to go find Sanya."

Dunn nods and give her his condolences, then she ran off to find Sanya. She still couldn't understand the logic that those horrid people were running on. So what if two girls loved each other or got married; who was to say that it was wrong, immoral or invalid? They had no right to claim such ridiculous nonsense. Eila knew that the feeling she had in her heart for Sanya wasn't wrong, or immoral or that it was somehow lesser or abhorrent; her feelings were real, and they were good.

She wanted to be part of Sanya's life. She wanted to be there to support her. To protect her. To... love her.

In that instant Eila knew that she felt that most precious, sacred emotion towards the girl he held her heart. And that man and his horrible cronies had the arrogance and the audacity to tell her how she should feel to her beloved Sanya?

After spending a half hour looking however she wasn't able to find Sanya anywhere. She started to get worried... where was she? Eventually she found Flight Lieutenant Gentile instead, glancing around with a look that was of passive worry while walking by a aircraft hanger close to the airfield. Eila waved her hand at her. "Flight Lieutenant, are you alright?!" she called as she approached.

Dominica's mouth hooked into a frown. "I've tried to find Jane but I can't find her. She must be hiding someplace." She crossed her arms as frustration settled on her. "Damned bastards really hurt her with what they said, I'm not going to take what they did to my wife laying down."

"I know, they did the same thing to Sanya and me. Not even the soldiers on this base are treated any better, the things they said to Dunn about him and his fellow soldiers... it was unforgiveable! We have to put a stop to this somehow."

Dom wore a confused look. "Why don't the grunts on base do something about it?" she asked.

Eila sighed and shook her head. "PR reasons or something like that, though they were still really pissed about them all the same."

"Hands tied behind their backs huh?"

"Pretty much..."

At that both girls quietly tried to think of a solution to deal with the problem they notice that there were five men that seemed to be part of an airfield fire and safety crew that were taking inventory of fire fighting gear. The two girls seemed a little interested and entered the hanger as the man in charge gave instructions to his subordinates, instructing each of them where each piece of equipment goes. They are both eventually noticed with a look of perplexity.

"Oh, hey there, are you two alright? Can I help you with anything?" he asked.

"Sorry if we're bothering you at all, but we were wondering if you had seen two of our... um... that is... our squad mates." Eila asks, although Dominica looked with a measure of confusion at first at Eila, but then wore a small smile, knowing and recognising what the Suomus girl was trying desperately to hide. Eila then gave a detailed description of both Sanya and Jane, although her description of Sanya was the most detailed of the two.

The man shook his head. "Not sure, I don't think they came around here, sorry. I'd help you look for them with ya, but I have these duties to attend to with my boys here."

Dominica frowned. "I see... thanks anyways. I just want to make sure that she was alright... those people from earlier were... harassing us."

One of the other men had an inquiring look on his face. "Someone giving you girls a hard time? Who was it?" he asked.

Eila had an uncomfortable look on her face. "It was those people... with the signs. They had a problem with the fact that..." Eila trailed off. She was hesitant in sharing the reasons that spurned the hate groups ire.

Although she hesitated a moment, a sudden wash of determined defiance crossed Dom as she spoke firmly. "They didn't like that I was married to the women that I wanted to spend my life with. And if I ever get the chance, I'll give them and anyone like them a piece of my mind for making my girl cry." she had a stern look in her eyes, almost challenging them to say something in ill will. Eila figured that Dom was thinking that everyone in this would be hostile towards herself and Jane.

The five men seemed to blink as looks of recognition settled on their features, they then looked to each other for a while. It wasn't long when the lead man gave a mild smirk. "Alright you guys, I think it's time we took a bit of a break for a bit and get to work on something I forgot to bring to the hanger here." he had an odd tone that Eila couldn't quite place.

The younger man of the group looked confused. "What could we have missed though? Aren't we supposed to finish up here first? What could be so important to leave this job unfinished?"

"I just realize we had to find and properly store some propwash." The man said with a grin.

The younger man squinted. "Propwash? But there's no such thi-" A man standing next to the younger man placed his hand on his shoulder and shot an urging look. After a moment the younger man's face light up in realization. "Oh _right_: the propwash! How could I forget!? While we're at it we might need to get some headlight fluid from supply while we're out."

"Smart thinking, let's go get it done then." The man's subordinates begin setting aside some of their equipment, leaving firehouses, strange tools and what seemed to be fire fighting protective suits and uniforms and left the hanger. As the lead man left the hanger he stood before the entrance and turned to the direction his comrades were marching then spoke aloud. "Gee, I hope nobody decides to take our fire hoses and decides to use them for a dastardly plot to soak a bunch of bigots or anything: imagine the paper work if we had to replace them!" With that he turned his head and gave the girls a quick wink and walked off.

Both girls blinked and tried to figure out exactly what just happened, but the actions of the five men suddenly clicked in their minds when their eyes rested upon the fire hoses. Eila shot a devious smile at Dominica, a brilliant idea coming to her. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked the Liberion.

Dominica smirked. "If anything your thinking is like what I'm thinking, then I know a good way to show them what happens when they mess with our girls."

Eila blinked as her face reddened. "W-wait, OUR girls?! W-what are you saying?!"

The older girl scoffed. "We'll you don't exactly hide how you feel about Flying Officer Litvyak, you don't have to be embarrassed about it. If anything it's kind of nice seeing the two of you together, you both make a cute couple." As she started to walk over to the firefighting gear she looked back at the Suomus girl. "So have you popped the question to her yet?"

Eila's face turned beet red as she chased after Dom. "Just what do you mean by that?!" she demanded.

Dominica laughed. "Well, what do you think I mean by that?" Eila's face got redder as the Liberion girl grabbed a pair of fire hoses. "Now grab the other hoses and a wrench; we're going to be show those idiots what happens when you say evil shit to a witches lover."

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking ... Wing Commander Minna Wilcke...<strong>

**Affiliation... 501st Joint fighter Wing, Strike Witches...**

**Time: 6:21:08...**

Minna was silent as she was silently contemplating the events that had transpired. With news from Flight Lieutenant Gentile the Neuroi's infiltration of this other world she recognized how dire the situation has now become. After spending sometime speaking to Colonel Hughes if nothing else was made clear is that their world may be able to help and get help from each other. If only they could get help in finding Barkhorn. Both Minna and Mio had been discussign these events at length, so really it was an overwhelming state of affairs.

"Never thought I'd see the day we'd be getting help from a whole other world. Seems almost like a strange dream, doesn't it." Mio mused aloud, trying to take in everything going on. She turned to Minna, noticing how unusually quiet she was. "Is everything alright?"

Minna nods. "Yes, I'm still taking this all in. Although I get the feeling that this world may need our help as well. From what we were told a sizable Neuroi force has infiltrated here."

Mio frowned. "It seems that we had failed in our objective to prevent them from establishing a beach head. Not only that, this world's laws of physics must operate differently from our own; it's difficult to use our magic here. Why is that?"

Minna considers this for a moment. "I'm not sure... but at least we have some ability to use our innate magical powers. I get the feeling it may just require some time getting used to and adjusting to this worlds laws of physics." She closed her eyes and focused her magical power, her familiar manifesting as she used her Three Dimensional Space Understanding Ability again. After a moment of using it to gauge her surroundings and the people in the area she speaks thoughtfully. "It's taking some time and effort, but it seems my magic is starting to be getting closer to full capability the more I exercise it. My range and the details of the people I'm detecting is getting better. Still not one hundred percent though, but it's better than it was when we first arrived here."

Mio looked down to her blade for a moment, then looked to Minna and lifted up her eye patch, her magic eye's purple glow glowing stronger then it was before, but was still not quite near its best. "My Magic Eye, Magan, is also getting back to its pervious strength. But it's taking a bit more time then I like." She turns her eye patch back down. "The bigger problem however, is that my Reppumaru is still not yet to standard, far below then what is normal for me. I still need to keep training."

"Just be sure not to over exert yourself Mio. Your for too important to our unit if you wound up doing something that ends up getting you hurt in the long run." Minna cautions with a tone of worry.

Mio just gave a small smile in response. knowing how much her Commander was worrying about her. "I know, I'll be sure to pace myself."

"Good... I get the feeling that this world will have its own brand of problems though..." she said thoughtfully, recalling the events that transpired a few minutes ago; she saw that when the four witches approached the loud group of protesters that both Jane and Sanya had run off in tears, with Dom looking quite enraged and Eila looking worried. She wondered just what those verbally abusive people had said to her subordinates. Before Minna could say anything else to Mio she notices Eila walking past while carrying a fire hose in her grasp. Watching as the Suomus girl passes them and several other soldiers. Foley and Dunn included who were looking on with perplexity. Minna looked from Elia approaching the people that her magic had categorized as "hostile"; the ones with the signs and saying rather inflammatory and bigoted things, then turned around and followed the length of the hose to see Dominica at the ready next to a fire hydrant and a wrench. "What are those two planning?" Minna asked.

Mio blinked. "They aren't really going to..." the Major then shouted at Eila. "What do you think you're doing Juutilainen?!"

Eila ignored the Major and planted her feet. "HEY, DOMINICIA! HIT IT!"

Dunn's face subtly lit up as he smirked. "This is going to be good: if you've got cameras, you better get 'em out." All that Foley could do was just shake his head in flat disbelief and just brace himself for the inevitable.

The Liberion flight Lieutenant gave a curt nod. "Roger that! Time to cool it, you damned bigots!" Dominica turned the wrench, upon doing so water rushed out of the hose and ploughed into the members of the WBC, bodies and signs were sent flying. A small quantity of Eila's magic served to augment the water pressure in the hose somewhat, sending the members of the WBC flying some twenty feet and into a set of portable outhouses. The water and flailing forms of the hate filled protesters knocked over the potable outhouses, causing the bigots to get covered in spilt human waste. Once Eila gave the signal Dominica cut the water. After a moment of silence, civilians and soldiers slowly started to give a round of applause followed by cheers at seeing a mutually detested hate group being utterly trounced and humiliated by two young girls.

Minna sighed, unsure what to feel about the fact two witches just turned a fire hose on a group of civilians, even though the civilians in question were highly, horribly unpleasant to put it frankly. It was at this point the man that confronted both girls earlier shakily got off the ground and approached Eila with a furious look. Dom trotted over to Eila and stood between the Suomus girl and the approaching cult member.

"Damned sinning heathen! How dare you raise your hands against gods true chosen disciples; who do you think you are!?"

The response came when Eila and Dominica called forth their familiars and a bright blue glow surrounded them. Minna could see that the summoning of the two girls familiars came easy to them this time. Every civilian, solider and even the members of the WBC looked at the two girls with shock. The man from the WBC that had been approaching them froze with a look of shock soon followed by fear.

Dominica responds matter of factly. "We're witches: soldiers gifted in magic that defend humanity from the Neuroi. Or in this case: hate filled, bigoted little homophobes like you. If you think the fire hose was bad... just wait until you see us use our magical abilities on you..."

The WBC man had a look of horror on his suddenly pale face. "W-w-w-w-witches?!" At this news he and his fellow hate mongers started to run in fear, most screaming in insane terror. The man who lead them cried in fear. "The agents of Satin are amongst us! The servants of evil will hex and curse our souls! Repent! Repent! JUDGMENT DAY IS AT HAND!"

Eila and Dominica gave each other looks of satisfaction at having dealt with the hate group, but now everyone was looking squarely at them in shock. They were both unsure now just how people would react to them with their familiars out. After a few moments a young man approaches, looking at both girls with surprise. Minna and Mio approach the two girls with stern looks.

Minna looked sternly at the two witches. "Ladies, would you care to explain your behavior just now?" she demands.

Eila stiffened, the fur of her familiars features becoming bristled. "M-m-mamm|! W-we were only trying to get those people to stop harassing everyone."

Minna frowns. "The way the situation was handled by the two of you reflects upon the uniforms of your homelands and your fellow witches. We are the first witches in this world; how do you think people will view us if they see you acting like that."

Dom had a bored look on her face. "Everyone seemed to approve of our actions, mamm."

Before Minna could respond the young man approaches closer to the four witches, looking at the girls with surprise on his face. "I'm sorry, but... are those... ears and tails?" he asked.

Eila looked up to her familiar's ears and pointed to them. "Yeah, they are our familiars."

"And you guys are witches; I mean... you really can use magic?"

Mio nods. "That's correct. These are powers that we are given at birth. And we have a duty to protect humanity from any threat that comes our way."

The man had a look of awe on his face at hearing this, looking at the four witches in amazement for a few minutes. He suddenly goes over to his two friends, another young man with a beard and a young woman while looking excited. "Guys, look at this! Real live, honest to god, magical girls in the flesh!"

The friend with the beard looked positively giddy, his eyes fixated on the four witches. "This is just like a show from my Anime library: this is a real once in a life time opportunity. You'd guys were awesome; I'd pay good money to see those guys getting hosed down like that! Hell, I'd go for a second viewing!"

The girl dug into her pocket and produced a small handheld device and held it to the four girls. "Amazing! Is it okay if I can take your picture with my smart phone?"

The girls were surprised at this, Dom's board look evaporated, overtaken by a look of amazement. "You mean you can take pictures... with a phone?!" the level of technological advancement in this world was incredible; the very concept of taking photographs with a phone was a mind-boggling concept. After allowing the girl to take a couple photos of them every other civi and soldier approached and began asking multiple questions about both the girls, their world and their fellow witches. They had never before been so overwhelmed by such a Q&A session like this before.

Dunn and Foley came up and then waved the civi's and their fellow service men off to give the girls some space to breath. Once that was done Foley shook his head. "You girls really left one hell of an impression, though It's likely brass will be on my ass about this."

Eila turned a little guilty; apparently this was going to become a PR issue. "S-sorry about that. I guess we did get too carried away."

Dunn laughed. "Oh hell no, don't apologize, especially not for those guys. They are university hated to the point where it's actually illegal for them to enter certain countries. If anything you guys would be hailed as heroic badassess. Those guys talk shit, they are full of shit; now they are covered in shit. That's one hell of a shit sandwich that they've got going on."

Foley shot Dunn a firm glare in response, prompting the corporal to be silent, then looked to the girls. "Feeling may be mutual, but I wouldn't advise pulling stunts like that again. For the record: I have to say that was damned reckless and unprofessional and if it happens again disciplinary action from those higher up in the chain of command will be likely." Both Eila and Dom deflate a little bit at that, but then Foley continues. "But off the record: I wish I could have done something as ballsy as you two did. Just try to restrain yourselves next time, I don't want to see you girls get into any serious trouble, Hooah?"

Minna turned to the two girls firmly. "When we return to base in our world you have to face reprimand. Eila, I expect you to pull double kitchen duty for your actions for the rest of the week. And Dom, I'll have to report to your commanding officer about your actions here today. Even though those people were in the wrong, the actions you took were not becoming of yourselves or your fellow witches. Is that understood girls?" Both of the girls nod and give answers in the affirmative. Hopefully now they wouldn't have to worry about any further confrontations with people like that. Or so she was hoping. Dominica and Eila looked to her, both girls seemed about to ask a question but she anticipated what it likely was. "I'm also guessing you're both wondering where Sanya and Jane are, is that correct?"

Eila was a little surprised, but nods. "Yes mamm...we haven't been able to find them after they ran off to."

Minna called forth her familiar and used her magical ability to pinpoint the locations of the missing girls. After a couple seconds of quiet focus she manages to find them. "They are both located by a section of tents by the motorpool. You'll find them there."

"R-really?!" Eila exclaimed in surprise. Dominica promptly takes off running to find her dear wife as Eila give her thanks to her commanding officer. "Mamm, thank you!" She then ran off to find Sanya, following the Liberion who was off at a full sprint.

Foley couldn't help but look impressed. "Mamm, for someone under twenty your by far the most squared away officer I have ever seen in all my years of military service. That right there was the work of a true OIC."

Minna wore a soft smile, even despite the earlier actions of the two lower ranked witches, she could tell that Sergeant Foley was earnestly impressed with her and the girls, despite many of the smaller details involved. "Thank you Sergeant; the duties of an officer may be challenging at times but that comes with the position. I have to be able to balance myself between using simple guidance and strict discipline. Punishments must be firm but fair, and rewards should also be handled in moderation."

"Spoken like a true officer." Foley says with a smile.

"I'll say." Dunn agrees.

Mio nods with a look of pride. "She's the Commander of the 501st Joint Fighter Wing. By far she is one of the best officers I've had the honor of serving under." She looked to her commander warmly. "And on top of that; she's a true friend. I'd follow her into whatever battlefield we were ordered to."

The young Wing Commander's smile widened at that. The words of praise meant a lot to her at this moment... but even despite knowing the earnestly of these words spoken and the fact this world may provide them with assistance in fighting the Neuroi, she still had a great deal of concern deep concern for Captain Barkhorn. Foley often told her that he'd be more than happy to help if her could, but of course he had his own orders and his own war to handle. Not to mention he was only a Sergeant himself, he had little sway over what he could or couldn't do. So far all she could do was just hope that the men of Task Force 141 kept her in good hands.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Flying Officer Eila Ilmatar Juutilainen...<strong>

**Affiliation... 501st Joint Fighter Wing, Strike Witches...**

**Time: 6:27:07...**

Eila spotted the motorpool and made a beeline straight for it. The Wing commander said that both Sanya and Jane were around here. Her eyes darted wildly in every direction, searching everywhere for her squadmate. The thought of Sanya in tears was more than Eila could even stand. Dominica was following close behind, searching for her beloved wife. It wasn't long before the two younger girls were found, both of them taking shelter between a couple of tents and crates, crying a stream of tears at the earlier words of hate that had been directed at them.

"Sayna!" Eila rushed over to Sanya and gave her the biggest hug she could muster, trying to calm her friend down. "Hey, hey, it's okay Sanya. I'm right here, please don't cry."

Dom trotted up to Jane and placed her hand on her wife's shoulder. "Hey sweetheart, I was looking everywhere for you."

Jane looked up to Dom tearfully and sniffled. "Oh, Dom..." She leaped into the arms of her dearest wife as she was sobbing. "I can't believe they could say such horrible things Dom! How can what I feel for you possibly be so wrong? Love is good isn't it? Why do they find us so abhorrent?!"

Dom rubbed her sorrowful wife's back and stroked her head tenderly. "They're just close-minded, ignorant idiots Jane. Don't you listen to them. Pay them no mind... my loves only for you, my darling wife." She looked to Eila. "I'm going to take care of Jane for a while. You take care of Litvak, alright?"

Eila nods with a look of determination. "I intend to." As the Orussian and Sumoi girls head off to get sometime alone, Eila turned her attention back to Sanya. "Sanya... Sanya, are you alright?" She wanted to be with Sanya. She wanted to dry these tears in her eyes. She wanted to protect her. And she was going to...

Sanya had a look of anguish on her face. "Eila..." she drew a shaky breath. "Those people... they said such terrible things..."

"I know: they had no right to say any of those things. None at all. Back home it was normal for girls to find love with other girls. I mean: Jane and Dom are married. Those jerks don't know what they are talking about." She took Sanya's hand and spoke with a gentle tone. "But you don't have to worry about them saying mean things anymore. Okay, Sanya? I took care of them; Dom and I made sure they wouldn't bother anyone anymore, scared them off. I'll always be there to protect you"

Sanya sniffled. "Eila. Can I... ask you something?"

"Yes of course! You can ask me anything!"

"Eila... what do you think of me?" she asked hesitantly.

Eila blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You always touch other girls in our unit... why don't you do the same to me? Is it because... you don't look at me the same as you do the others? Do you only see me as... just a friend."

Realization came to Eila as Sanya spoke to her. This day was really starting to happen... and the Suomus girl was becoming nervous, a blush crossing her cheeks. "W-well. I... urm...t-that's... uh... I mean..." Eila caught herself. Why was she hesitating now of all times? She knew how she felt towards Sanya; why can't she just say it? _ No. I'm not going to hide it anymore! I'm not going to just try and hide my feelings behind an aloof mask. I know how I really feel about Sanya: it's about time I show it to her! _ Taking a deep breath, she finally found the strength; the strength to admit her true feelings. "S-sanya... I... I know we have known each other for a while now. And I am really grateful to be able to call you my friend. But if I'm being completely honest: the day we first met... I wanted to be something more than just a friend; I want to be a part of your life. I want to be there to support you, and to protect you. Sanya I... I love you. I love you with each and every inch of my heart. I didn't want my idle hands to hurt you Sanya; that's why I haven't dared... doing things like that to you, like I have with the other girls."

Sanya's eyes widened, her face blushing at Eila's confession. "E-eila. You... you really feel that way about me?" The Orussian girl looked to her squadmate in amazement.

Eila nods. "I do. Really I do! Sanya... will you... will you be my girlfriend?" A long moment of silence followed this confession. Eila didn't know what to think of this reaction. Was it good, or was it bad? What would Sanya say in response to all this. The suspense was killing the Suomus girl! _Please Sanya... please let me give my heart to you._ she begged silently. She started to despair; would Sanya say no, was she afraid, was she unsure? Eila didn't know... but perhaps some part of her... didn't want to know, out of fear. But their was no turning back now; she confessed her feelings, now would come the consequences of the confession.

The answer Eila was waiting for finally came in the formation of tears in Sanya's eyes. Her mouth slowly hooked up in a trembling smile, her hand moved to cover that smile, overwhelmed by the emotion that was shining through her face. "Eila... I had... always hoped... that you loved me. I'm so glad that you do..." Sanya took a shaky breath and moved towards her. "I would be so happy if I could... call you my girlfriend." Her face slowly inched towards Eila's own.

She gasped, her beloved Sanya was drawing closer to her. Was she really...? "Sanya... I..."

"I love you... Elila..."

Eila felt Sanya's lips press against her own, softy and tenderly enveloping her mouth as her mind went blank. Even as it was happening, she couldn't be sure she was really experiencing this. But as Sanya's moist, tender lips enveloped her and kissed her Eila then realized: this wasn't a dream. This was real. Both she and Sanya were really kissing. Eila began to return the kiss, her arms wrapping around Sanya. This felt good. This felt right. And she couldn't have felt more happy then she was feeling right now. She and Sanya, after all the years the two witches had known each other for; were finally girlfriends.

After kissing for a couple minutes of bliss, both girls part from each other, as Eila looks lovingly at her friend turned girlfirend. "Sanya, I love you. I... I can't believe this is really happening! I've always wanted to tell you how I felt for you but I...but now I feel so... happy."

"Me too... I want to share my heart with you Eila. I want to go through this life with you beside me."

Eila felt a sudden rush of excitement, a feeling of exuberance overtaking her. "I feel so excited that; I want to share this news with everyone!"

Sanya nods, giggling. "I want to share this with everybody too: I want to tell them about us."

"Yeah! But, who should we tell fir-" Eila looked over to a pair of tents close to the motorpool, remembering to have seen Dom and Jane headed in that direction earlier. "Oh! I know who we can start with first!" Pulling Sanya along behind her and laughing giddily the two girls approached the gap between the two tents, a set of crates. "Dominica! Jane! I have something wonderful to tell everyone: Snaya and I are-" Both Eila and Sanya's faces go from expressions of warm happiness to deep red in shock at the sight of Jane and Dom kissing deeply with each other in a heavy make out session, the tunics and undershirts of both girls uniforms were unbuttoned completely, exposing the two girls breasts to each other. Their hands groped with gentle, loving care at each other's chest, massaging each other lovingly.

Both girls proceed to shed their tunics and dress shirts, leaving them with only their panties. Dom was the first to glide her hand down Jane's body and into her panties, tenderly massaging her wife's womanhood. Jane was moaning while kissing her beloved Dom, her mouth trying to fully envelop her wife's own. Sweat began to slowly glisten from the smaller Liberion's body. Jane then reached for Dom's crotch and massaged her beloved wife's genitals.

At the moment both girls started to pull down each other's panties Eila and Sanya both bleated, promptly about faced and hurried off. "S-sorry! We'll come back and tell you later!" Eila hastily apologized.

Sanya closes her eyes and turns her head to the ground in embarrassment as she and Eila tried to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the two married witches of the 504th. "We're sorry!" she apologized.

Just as they were walking out of the motor pool a soldier was starting to head towards the vehicles, his eyes turned to the tents that Jane and Dom were hidden between, though it was clear had hadn't caught sight of the two girls. "H-hey, where are you going?" Eila asked shakily, still trying to get over seeing such an explicit display.

"Just need to take care of something over here is all." her responds, pointing at the tents behind the motor pool.

Eila and Sanya, quickly stand between the man and the motorpool with horrified looks. "No! You mustn't go over there!" they both plead.

The man blinked and raised his eyebrow questioningly. "Why not? What's going on over there?"

Eila began sweating bullets. "Urm... well...uh..." Did she really have to try and explain just what was happening back their? "T-trust us, it's in use and you don't want to be caught back there." She responds shakily, both she and Sanya trying to usher the man away from the motorpool. Hopefully once they get this man some distance away perhaps then they can share the happy news.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking ... Flight Lieutenant Dominica S. Gentile...<strong>

**Affiliation... 504st Joint fighter Wing, Ardor Witches...**

**Time: 6:34:01...**

Dominica kept kissing Jane as their panties were slipped off each other. She could see how distraught her wife was from that earlier verbal abuse. She wasn't about to let those stupid, crazy, hate filled words hurt Jane like that. Seeing her wife so filled with pain in her heart... she wasn't going to let those words spoken bring tears to Jane's eyes; she would ease the hurt in her wife's heart. Her hands kept massaging Jane's vagina softly and tenderly, each menstruation brought her loving wife to new levels of ecstasy, her pussy growing wetter with each caress of the older girls fingers. Her other hand massaged Jane's soft, warm breast tenderly while the two girls started to become lost in a ever growing haze.

She parted her kiss to Jane and looked to her lovingly. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

Her wife looked to her tearfully. "Dom... I don't care what anyone says. I love you. Only you."

"I know you do. And you know that I love you back, right?"

"I do... I do know that. I don't know why this is hurting so much..."

"It's okay, you've got me with you." Dominica took Jane by the hips and sat her down on a crate that was behind her small wife. She give her a kiss on the lips for a few moments, both girls pressing up against each other in loving passion. Dom worked her way down between Jane's legs as they parted before her, anticipating what the lackadaisical girl of subtle passion was about to do.

Dominica grasped Jane by her hips and pressed her mouth against her wife's sex. Jane gasped as a sudden rush of pleasure exploded from her most sacred nethers. Kissing Jane's entire pussy the brown haired Liberion could taste the sweet juices of her soul mate, her tongue dancing across the other girls vulva.

"D-dom..." the blond girl gasped, her head tilted back as a new surge of pleasure coursed through her body.

Dom made sure her wife felt as much pleasure as possible. She wanted to dry her wife's tears, and what better way to make her feel good then to make love to her? Dom felt Jane's hands grasp her head as she pleasured the other girls organ, taking in the taste of the younger Liberion girl. Each suck, each lick, each kiss elected moans and cries of pleasure. After a while Dom pulled back a bit from Jane's moist snatch and noticed her erect clitoris.

"Your clit looks cute, Jane." she states warmly, a hint of a smile on her pokerfaced expression.

"D-dom! Why are you talking about my- ah!~"

She went back to work on her wife, her teeth gently nipping at Jane's erect clit, then soon enveloping it with a kiss. The other girl cried out loudly in passion. Her eyes were half-closed, she was getting lost in a lust filled haze, the fog of love enveloping her. Hearing Jane's voice moaning in pleasure always made her wet: now was no different. Jane was starting to buck as she was kissing her clit, clearly the blond-haired girl was enjoying the feeling of having her love button kissed.

"It feels so good Dom! I'm going to... I'm going to... I'm... AH!" It wasn't long until Jane's body started to quake and shudder, finally reaching orgasm. After the pleasure filled rush subsided Dom gave her wife's clit one more long loving kiss, then licked her pussy before pulling away from her.

Dom then kissed Jane on the lips. "Feeling better?" she asked.

Jane panted lustfully and responds with a kiss of her own first upon Dom in an open-mouthed kiss, then by slowly kissing the nape of her neck. "Yes... now I want to return the favor..." From their she moved to Dom's left breast her lips wrapping around her nipple and sucking it gently, electing a grunt of pleasure from the girl with the Eagle familiar, a pleasing feeling dancing a jig on her nipple. This went on for a while until Dom noticed one of the covered trucks near the tents they hid between. Despite her mind getting a bit clouded from being stimulated she suddenly had an idea...

Dom picked Jane up again, the younger girl gasping a bit in mild surprise, but she wrapped her legs around the older girl for support and kissed her on the lips again. Upon parting the kiss Dom looked with loving intensity to her partner. "I've got an idea Jane." With Jane being held in her arms and her legs wrapped around her hips, Dom carried her wife over towards the truck.

"What idea are you thinking about Dom?" Jane then noticed where they were going with surprise and a blush on her face. "W-wait a minute! You don't mean for us to make love in the open again do you?! Don't you know how embarrassing it was doing such things in that Atrium two months ago?!"

Dom's face was a bit flat at this. "You didn't complain about it then. Besides: it was a little fun and exciting, wasn't it?"

Jane's face reddened further. "Well... maybe a little bit... " she admits timidly. Once they reach the truck she sets Jane unto the trucks bed behind the cab, then climbs up into the back of the truck with her loving wife. Once on her back Jane had a questioning look on her face. "So what exactly are we going to do?"

Dominica positioned herself on top of Jane, facing her vagina. "I'll make you feel good while you make me feel good, is that alright?" At that, Dominica begin to orally stimulate her wife's womanhood, a cry of pleasure escaping her. As she was doing this she felt Jane's hands wrap around her thighs and the sudden feeling of a moist tongue gliding across her snatch. She inhaled sharply as the sudden rush of pleasure burst forth. Both girls were busily at work performing cunniligus for each other, each lick, each kiss, every touch and prod of each other's womanly glory brought the pair into a state of warm, loving, hazy bliss. As Dom kept licking she started to insert one of her fingers into Jane's soaked pussy, trying to maximize the amount of pleasure the other girl would be feeling.

A cry from Jane sounded out in response to the digit entering her. Dom continued kissing and sucking the girl she loved. It wasn't long before the passionate, older Liberion felt a finger enter her vagina, causing her to gasp. In response, Dom added an extra digit into Jane's wet pussy in response, another cry of loving passion escaped the girl loudly. Both girls were at it for several minutes now, each menstruation, kiss , lick and massage and thrust of their fingers sent burst after burst of pleasure and warmth from their body's. It wasn't long until Dom felt a building pressure in her core, she was about to reach release. And judging from the sound of things; so was Jane.

Upon reaching climax both their bodies shuddered and quaked in pleasure, both girls riding a lust filled high. Once they finally came Dom slowly moved to her loving wife and caressed her face. Jane looked up to her beloved warmly. "Dom... that was wonderful..."

"Are you feeling better?" she asked.

Jane nods. "Yes... how do you feel? Did I do well enough?"

Dome smiled a little. "You did beautifully, sweetheart."

"I'm glad. Dom... I love you." Jane gave her beloved wife and lead wingman a kiss, trying to take in every part of her beloveds passion.

Dom pulled away and stroked the other girls head softly. "I love ya too hon." Dom then blinked when she remembered something. "Hey, I just realized: didn't you hear Eila earlier?"

Jane cocked her head in confusion. "I'm not sure. Did she and Sanya have something to say a moment ago?"

"Can't say for sure... I can't really remember, all I could hear was the sounds of us making love."

"I guess so..." Jane then had a look of realization. "Hey Dom: where are our clothes?"

Dom had a thoughtful look for a moment but then a frown formed on her face, followed by an annoyed grunt. "I think we left them by the tent. Hang on, I'll go get em."

As she started to step out of the truck Jane had a sudden, embarrassed smile on her face. "W-well don't be too long... I still want to do more with you. O-okay Dom?" To emphasize the point Jane's legs were spread widely, presenting her womanhood to her beloved wife, a deep blush crossing her face as her hand went to her vagina and she shyly started to touch herself provocatively.

Dominica's face turned slightly pink as she stared at Jane in such an amazingly sexy position and acting in such a titillating way while in the nude for about five seconds. Without a word she promptly ran for the tent to retrieve her and her wife's clothes. It looked like today would be another hot day for making love...

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Captain Clotilda Marwick...<strong>

**Affiliation... 78th Tame Witches Combined Reserve Squadron...**

**Location... 501st Witches Base, Romagna... **

**Time: 19:11 hours...**

Clotilda called in all the girls of the 78th and the 501st and started to address them. "Alright girls, that's it for training; bring it in! Form up and fall into formation." Once the girls assembled into their assorted ranks and files at ease before the Commanding officer of the 78th, Clotilda called the girls to attention then turned to face Shirley who stood before the assembled witches with a look of pride. At the same time the people from the other world looked on with mild interest. Clotilda then spoke to the Liberion Captain sharply. "Mamm, all witches are assembled and awaiting your address." she declared.

Shirley sheepishly shot a light grin towards the first Lieutenant. "Hey, hey take it easy already. We aren't all Karlsander's after all." At that Clotilda groaned lightly, but a light smile then crossed her and she gave a small nod in understanding. "Alright, relax, you can stand easy everyone." The girls awkwardly return to the position of ease and then stood at the relaxed position of easy, then she addressed the girls. "You girls have really put a lot of effort in today's training exercises. I can see that a lot of you have plenty of potential inside so be sure to give it your one hundred and ten percent. Some of you may still need a little extra time to hone your abilities and skills, but just worry about what you can do and let your squadmates handle the rest; we're a team after all. Also, be sure to pace yourselves, know where your limits are and try breaking them bit by bit instead of all at once; you don't want to hurt yourselves, alright?" After a pause Shirley gave a nod. "Well, that's it. You all have the rest of the day to yourselves before lights out, so enjoy yourselves and take some time to get relaxed for tomorrow. You're dismissed."

Once the girls were dismissed Clotilda approached Yeager with Ludwiga at her side. "So Captain, how have things been going." She asked her fellow Liberion.

Shirley wore a tired smile. "Tiring, but hey, I guess that just comes with the job. I had to put in some more requisitions through the forms and even over the phone for more supplies, our allotted unit budgets for supplies, and seeing if command has any new missions for us. So far it's business as usual; I can't see how Minna was able to keep this whole show running smoothly, I'm barely keeping pace as it is."

Clotilda smiled. "Well you're doing well enough, don't sell yourself short. It just takes a little time for adjusting. Believe me, I was in the same boat when I became an officer." she encouraged warmly.

"I suppose that's true." Shirley allowed. "Hey have you guys heard anything from the 3rd Land Battle Witches at all? I've been trying to get a hold of their forward Operation's base camp in central Gallia but so far I was only able to get a hold of them three days ago."

The Lieutenant looked thoughtful. "Oh yes, we Tame Witches had the chance to serve alongside them a few times. They are very good at what they do. If they haven't been able to be raised on the phone at this point, it's likely because they are out in the field in another heavy engagement or doing recon."

"Really? Should I try patching them through to them on a radio channel then?"

Clotilda shook her head. "Even if you did I doubt you'd be able to get a response back from them: the only time they would go dark this long is if they were behind enemy lines again for a protracted period of time."

"Is that right? So I guess they want to maintain radio silence?" Shirley mused.

Ludwiga places her hands on her hips and gives a light nod. "It's quite likely. But knowing that they are under the command of Samatha Walters; it shouldn't be anything to worry about, I think. The 3rd Land Battle Witches are fierce fighters against enemy Neuroi on the ground."

"Are you and the girls of the Iron witches friends or something?" Shirley asks with a genuine smile.

Clotilda shrugs. "Not quite; more like real good acquaintances really. We've known each other for a while, but we haven't gotten a lot of time to get to know each other much on a personal level. I'd like the opportunity to get to know them better..."

As the trio were walking they noticed that James was cautiously eyeing the Karlsland Soldier that was originally part of Krupke's guard detail but had put in for a transfer. Well, truthfully he was simply left behind by Ekkard Krupke. Ludwiga herself noticed the man and wore a guarded look. The soldier in question spoke to James with an urging tone, while this happened James's sister and fellow countrymen looked on with perplexity.

"Listen please, I... I just want to talk with you. Allow me a moment of your time."

James wore a guarded look, studying him carefully. "Are you going to give me a good reason as to why I should do that?"

The young Karlslander wore a look of guilt on his face. "Look I... I know you haven't reason to talk to me, what with how I acted towards you and your friends before, but I wish to make amends for it. Please let me explain myself."

Ludwiga, Shirley and Clotilda approached the pair with caution. Clotilda spoke with a questioning tone. "Is there a problem here, gentlemen? Does it require our intervention at all?" she asked.

James turned to the Lieutenants and shook his head. "No mamm, I'm alright." He turns back to the Karlsland soldier. "I don't get you man, first you go full fucking agro alongside your buddies on me and the other guys while giving the cold shoulder to the girls, you almost break my I-pod that set me back $200 US dollars, you want to get witches out of service and you wanted to help that damned General Krupke hang not only all the witches but your own sister out to dry? How exactly am I supposed to look at you with anything other than animosity, at best?" he asked of the man.

The young Karlslander tried to explain. "Yes, I did act in such a way and said a lot of things that I'm now regretting, but please understand that while my former commanding officer and old unit held disdain for them; I never hated witches. My own sister is a witch. By the Fatherland, I'm her brother! I love her. She's..." The young man, Cord Drescher, paused for a moment with a look of reservation, but then sighed and continued. "She's the only family I have left."

Ludwiga looked at Cord with a cold, emotionless look. "One of my father's men is now serving on this base? And he sought to end his own sisters military service?" She demanded flatly, the dull, damaged look in her eyes that seemed to unnerve the 501st and even the men and women from the other world took a hint of smouldering anger. "Who was responsible for making such a decision?"

"I'm not sure really. I think he was just left here and we haven't figured out what to do with him yet." Shirley responds with a shrug.

James looked to Ludwiga in surprise. "Wait... father?! You telling me your the daughter of that damned son of a bitch trying to dismantle witch units?!" he asked incredulously.

Ludwiga's mouth shifted into disgust. "Unfortunately." she responds with clear disdain. When she made eye contact with him, a look of guarded suspicion on her face and in her eyes James seemed to pull back from her with a look of perplexity. Then a look of recognition that Clotilda couldn't quite place settled on him and he simply adverted his gaze, looking somewhat subdued.

Cord blinked in surprise. "Ludwiga Krupke: the daughter of Ekkard Krupke." The look of dull anger in Ludwiga's eyes soon became directed at the other Karlslander, which made him shrink timidly. "Forgive me mamm, your fathers command was difficult for me to serve under. I faced a lot of hazing and harassment because of the fact my sister is a witch, so I had to put on a mask of sorts to deal with it easier."

Shirley crossed her arms while wearing a straight face. "So the whole thing about you being anti-witch was all just smoke and mirrors then; you didn't want to see witches get taken out of military service?"

Theirs an uncomfortable, long pause from the young man. "Actually to the last, yes...I did..." he confessed. He was met with a round of very hot glares from those around him, the three witches, Carmen and the other girls in uniform being the most heavy, but then he continued. "But not for the reasons you may think: Lea is the only family I have left, we both lost our parents during the fall of Karlsland. I saw a lot of horrors as our country fell to the enemy's hands. So many people were killed... and... well... seeing women getting harmed by the enemy's fire was... horrific to me. And once I was old enough to serve on the frontline at the minimum age required for military service I served on many battles on the European front. I saw a lot of bloody skirmishes and destroyed villages, and I didn't want to see my sister witnessing or experiencing such horrors herself. I feared that her innocence... even her very life, could be torn from her."

Carmen's mouth shifted. "Oh so your one of those guys huh: one of those kinds of men that think girls are fragile, delicate little wall flowers, can't handle the rigors of combat and are in need of protection?" she asked with mild sarcasm.

Cord shook his head. "I... it's just... war isn't a safe line of work for a women to be partaking in; you and other young women shouldn't have to face such horrors and expose yourselves to the dangers of the battlefield. It's a man's duty to put his life on the line to protect women and children from harm, and to make the ultimate sacrifice if need be while carrying out the duty of a soldier. You shouldn't have to be making such sacrifices."

Carmen sighed in annoyance. "Well unfortunately I beg to fucking differ." Cords mouth dropped at the harsh language the Marine uttered while she continues. "Hearing you talk just now: I know you're mister "old school, traditional, chivalrous, protect the women and children" type of guy but I have a little news for ya; I've been serving in the Corps for a little over three years. I've seen enough tours in the shittiest battlefields that you could possibly imagine. Even took a bullet or two doing my duty. And you know what: I did well at my job. I still do well in my job. And I fucking enjoy doing what I do, or at least I don't regret ever being a devil dog. Plenty of people back home saying: War isn't a profession for a women, heaven forbid our wives and daughters get killed overseas, women's lives are too valuable to risk sending into battle... bullshit. I have the right to choose for myself wither I should serve, fight, bleed or even face death for my country, I have the right to decide wither I can enlist in the first god damned place and receive the same opportunities that any of the guys have while I serve. And not just to some support roles either, I'm not satisfied with that shit: I want combat. I want to be where the metal meets the meat. I want to send a red, a Jihadist or any other bad guy of the week into the fucking grave. Hell I'd fight some of these metal alien fucks if you give me a big enough gun to shoot em with. I want to protect innocent life and take the bastardo's and monsters out. I have a right to be treated no better, or less than any man who wears a uniform, shoots a rifle, humps ammo or digs a fucking hole for either hiding in, sleeping in or shitting in. And I'm damn well not going to let anybody tell me otherwise or stand in my way. Are you understanding me?" After a pause and seeing everyone watching her in intent surprise she speaks in a more neutral tone. "I get it. You don't like seeing women getting hurt, you want to protect us. Which is certainly better then a lot of other guys who drew issue with women in military service. A real fucking gentlemen. Thanks, but you can save it. It's well meaning and all, but I'm a big girl. I can dish it out, and I can take it out in the battlespace. Same goes for every other girl in uniform; why do you think we signed up to begin with? All I need from a guy like you or any other guy is to just cover my six while I hit the bad guys from their twelve. And for your girls here in this world; more of the same. You're sisters a witch, she has her unit looking out for her. She made the choice to serve under her own free will, right? You're her brother, aren't you? Then be proud of her!"

Cord was stunned by this for a minute, but then he seemed to take a look of guilty resignation. "Yeah... yeah, I should be proud of her. I just can't help but worry for her safety. I thought best way to keep her safe was to keep her out of the war, out of service. But after the men of Hunter-2-1 spoke to me they made me see that... perhaps I was wrong in wanting to ensure my sister was removed from duty. But all the same, I can't help but fear for her and the other witches..."

James wore a thoughtful look for a minute, his eyes turning to the floor as his mouth shifted. "So that's the story then; you just an overly protective older brother worrying over his little sister." His eyes shift momentarily to Carmen for a few seconds before rolling his head and turning his gaze back to the ground. "I guess I know what that feels like." He then looked to Cord with a profound look. "But let me level with ya, one brother of a sister to another. Just be there for your sister, let her know you've got her back and actually go to bat for her. And above all, try and put a little trust in her training, her abilities and her unit. And try not to see her too much as a damsel to protect, because if I know my sister, and if yours is anything like mine then you'll just end up leaving the room horizontally on a stretcher."

Cord seemed to chuckle a bit at that. "Before she enlisted I would have disagreed that my little Lea would do something like that: she was always a very small, meek girl who spoke quietly and was easily frightened by things in life. But after enlisting as Air Infantry... that seems much more likely to happen. That old part of her isn't as prominent as before...she has grown quite stronger, not only in body, but in mind and will." His small smile then drooped into a frown of discomfort. "Although she now uses very unwomanly language. To hear little Lea use such harsh words like that..."

Clotilda nods. "Well, so long as things are settled here, let's be sure we don't have any issues that damage inter unit moral and effectiveness." No sooner did Clotilda finished speaking a sudden series of screams came from the striker hanger. Her head snaps into its direction. "That sounds like the girls, what's going on?"

Ludwiga is already off running as Shirley responds. "I have no clue. Come on, we should go check it out."

James shoulders his rifle with a sigh. "Just what the heck are those girls doing then?" he asked.

"No clue, but I'm coming with you guys." Carmen responds. Cord also offers to join, a look of protective worry crossed his face at hearing the girls screams.

The group is already starting to run towards the hanger, Shirley soon catches up to and passes Ludwiga with Clotilda, both Ramirez siblings and Cord following suit. Once at the hanger the group sees all the witches huddled around a particular area in the striker hanger, panicking.

"What happened?! What's wrong?!" Shirley asks once she enters the hanger.

The girls turn to the group with horrified looks and pale faces. Yoshika and Lucchini rush over to Shirley, with the young Romagnan leaping into the older girls arms. "Shirley, look!" Both girls point to the what had caused the girls to be wrought with horror. To the groups shock, they see a set of crates with a bloody pool on the ground, oozing from a pile of crates. Ludwiga approaches the blood stained floor and behind the crates with Clotilda joining her.

To Clotilda's horror she saw the bodies of two of the Mechanics laying in a pool of blood on the floor, their necks slit open, the life in their eyes butted out. "By the ether." She murmured. She drew back from the grisly scene and turned to the girls while James and Carmen drew close to have a look, the two siblings cursing at seeing the dead bodies. "Someone explain this! What the hell happened to these men!?" The CO of the 78th demands curtly. Even as she belted out her demand her stomach was twisting up into knots.

"W-we don't know, we just came in here and found them like this!" Lynette wailed, clutching to Yoshika for comfort. Yoshika clutched back at Lynne, both girls looking quite distraught.

"Who could have done such a monstrous thing!" Perrine demands angrily. The normally prim and proper Gallian was clearly shaken by seeing the two dead men. The other witches murmur shakily in agreement; this was a whole new scenario for them to deal with in their military service. Chocked sobs and wails escaped the younger, tender hearted girls, while the tougher witches of the 78th groaned weakly in disgust or murmured amongst themselves..

James drew a frown. "These guys had their throats slit, bled out completely. Looks like they have been dead for a bit. An hour, maybe two." he murmurs.

A land battle witch named Sydney Radley, a green haired, green eyed Warrant officer from Faraway Land with a stern look in her eyes spread her arms to guided the girls back. "Come on girl's let's get out of this hanger, leave this for the adults and the officers to take care of, is that clear?" It seemed as though she was trying to shield the girls from seeing more of the horrible sight of the blood and dead bodies. Her green eyed, green haired twin sister with six pigtails, Valerie, also helped in shielding the girls from sight of the dead mechanics.

Cord looked to the dead men with a look of outrage. "Who the hell could have been responsible for this?!" he demands.

"That's what I want to know." Clotilda states flatly. Turning to the Shirley she shoots a questioning look. "We should find whoever the culprit is who murdered these men. How do we start?"

Shirley shakily frowns. It was apparent the young Captain was rattled by seeing this sort of death. Seeing people getting killed by Neuroi was one thing, seeing what appeared to be two people murdered by another person was something the Liberion wasn't ready for. "This isn't the work of Neuroi; people did this. We have to find out who did killed these two."

After going over the potential, obvious suspects in her head Clotilda and questioning if it were some sort of dispute or other grim altercation of ill intent, she suddenly came to a disconcerting realization. "Although there is a slim possibility, I am unsure that it was any personnel on base as far as I know, and I know none of our girls would ever dream of doing something like this. Who does that leave us?" Clotilda asked, turning to James and Carmen.

Carmen looked at Clotilda with a look of anger. "What are you saying; that one of us or one of our guys did this?!" she demands.

Ludwiga silently cast a firm glare at Cord but he raised his hands fearfully. "It wasn't me either: I would never dream of committing such a vile crime!"

James however waved Carmen off. "Hey, hey, easy sis." He turns to the girls with a passive look. "I'll talk to Vaugn about this. If you want to question our guys about what happened then we'll comply with an investigation. I don't know if one of my guys would really pull shit like this but if it is I'll personally kick their ass for you." Carmen groans but remains silent.

Coming to a overall plan of dealing with this grim development and leaving the hanger the group made their way to the gaggle of American troops and passing the shaken witches, finding Sergeant Vaugn amongst them and filling him in on the whole situation. Upon hearing of what has happened he seemed genuinely surprised. "Two mechanic's were killed? Are you fucking serious?!" he asked.

"I'm afraid so. Has there been any suspicious activity from any of your guys?" Shirley asked.

"Not that I know of, but I sure as hell won't let some bastard dishonor my countries uniform like this if it is. I'll bring our guys onto the parade square and fill em in."

"Alright, thank you for cooperating."

"Hey, this is serious shit here. Of course I'd-"

Suddenly on the radio comms a voice spoke out from one of the Marines from James and Carmen's world. "H-hey Sergeant Vaugn. We've got a situation; I found one of our boys dead in a bush. He's got a single stab wound to the back of his neck, severed his spinal cord."

Red flags went up for Clotilda and the others at this point. _Wait, one of their men was killed too? That doesn't add up... what is going on here? _ The witch Lieutenant thought to herself. Despite her confusion, she knew there was something up.

At this point James's face hooked into frown. "I don't like this; something stinks to high hell around here."

Vaugn nods. "I agree with ya Private." He turns to the Rangers and Marines that were currently gathered in a gaggle. "Alright, head counts; is everyone present and accounted for?" A quick head count is taken, each Marine and Ranger sounding off. After the head count was conducted as it was there was still one man still absent, to which Vaugn turns to Morgan in one of the smaller gaggles."Hey Morgan, do you know where Bossley is?"

"I think he's down over on the wall." he replays, pointing over at the stone fortress walls of the base. It wasn't long until Bossley was located by a tower on the walls of the base, talking with a Liberion sentry that was on duty.

Vaugn radios the man. "Hey private, fall in, there's been a situation." However there was no response. "Must have his radio off, Morgan can you go and get him over here." he asked the Ranger.

"Roger, I'll get him." Morgan starts off trotting over to get Bossley. Once he's half way there and he calls out, Bossley turns and waves at the Ranger. A sudden crack rings out and a pink mist spurts from Bossley's head, his body jerks and he pitches forward. His body falls from the wall and plummets to the ground below. While the soldiers of the other world quickly either hit the deck or scatter and take cover by any sort of solid cover the base personnel stair in slack-jawed surprise. The younger girls of both the 501st and the 78th bleat and scream in horror at seeing the Ranger getting killed, the older girls cursed and shouted explicative's. Clotilda and all the witches run back into the striker hanger for cover. Morgan ends up running to take cover by a Kubelwagen in the motorpool. "Shit! Where the hell did that come from?!" he shouted.

"That sounded like a fucking Dragunov!" Laymen shouts loudly from behind the cover of a tree. "Anyone have eyes on that Sniper?!"

Fitz takes a look around the corner of a wall, trying to scan the compound. "Negative I got no-" Another crack rings out, the round hitting the man in the throat. Blood started to flood his mouth and he gurgled weakly before dropping over dead. Then out rang the sound of an explosion, a tank shell hitting the base entrance, soon followed with bullets flying through the air. Another explosion ripped into one of the barracks of the base, punching a large hole in the masonry.

At this Clotilda knew she had to take action. "Captain Yeager! We're under attack! We have to defend the base!"

Shirley nods. "Yeah, we better get our strikers and weapons. Looks like we'll have to sortie."

A sudden explosion rocks the base, voices crying out as heavy caliber cannon fire and what sounded to the witches like flack arcing its way into the base grounds. A column of about seven jeep like vehicles, two armored eight wheeled vehicles, four trucks filled with soldiers and a tank crashed through the front gate.

"But those are people! We can't really shoot them: it' not right! It's not what we witches do!" Yoshika wailed. A few of the other girls nod and voiced their agreement in response. "I won't shoot another human being!" she put in firmly; even despite the fact she was trembling in fear it was clear that her morals and principles were unshakable.

"Yeah, I'm with Miyafuji on this one; I joined up as a Medic to protect people and mend their wounds, not blow them apart!" Erzsi, the pervert of Ostmark, protested firmly. Being a surgeon and a medic she, much like Yoshika, also valued human life, especially after having seen her hometown and homeland, Ostmark, fall to the Neuroi. She may have been able to aid in the evacuation of her hometown and saved a great many lives, she still saw a lot of death and bore witness to her hometown getting leveled by a vastly superior Neuroi force. She told Clotilda of this when she was asked about her home and what happened...

Ludwiga shot the two girls a firm, cold look. "If a person intends to put you and your comrades in his crosshairs and take both your lives then you must act without hesitation. If they act in hostility and intend to kill you and your squadmates then they _are_ the enemy. See them as Neuroi instead of humans and act accordingly." she spoke with cold, firm detachment.

Many of the girls of both witch units look at her with horrified shock. The fact she would say such a thing about another human being was unprecedented. Even Clotilda blinked in surprise at what her second in command had just uttered, never hearing words quite like this from her 2IC. Ludwiga may have always had been cautious around mundane soldiers and warned the girls to always be on their guard around them, but something like this? The Liberion Captain was silent for a moment; could she really have to order her girls to do such a thing?

"How can you say that?!" Helene, Perrine, Yoshika, Lynette and Brinda demand of the Karlsland girl in shock. Erzsi meanwhile wore an uncomfortable look but said nothing.

Just then Jenna spoke up on the radio channal. "H-hey, what the hell's going on!? What the fucks with all this gun fire and explosions?!" she demands.

"We're under attack by hostile soldiers!" Helene responds in a panic, the young painter was clearly shaken by these horrifying developments.

"Oh shit! It's just Erin, Darya, myself a nurse and a two of the doctors in the post-op here! All I have is my .45! Mamm, can you send someone to help us out in case the bad guys decide to show up?"

Clotilda turned to one of the girls of the tame witches, a Hispanian witch and pointed to her. "Sergeant Ámbar Abilio, grab your weapon and go protect Jenna, Darya and the others in the post op, is that clear?"

"Y-yes mamm!" came a reply. The young air infantry witch with black hair and bangs that covered her right eye quickly retrieved her weapon, a Solothurn S18-1100 with scope and 20 round magazine, and ran off into the halls of the base, heading towards the post op.

Another voice speaks over the radio. "Hey, it's James. Be advised Carmen and I will make our way to the post op to provide your girl with an assist, how copy?"

"Understood, stay safe."

"Roger that. Yo sis, give me cover fire, I'll move into the base first, then give you cover fire, hooah?"

Carmen belts out a response. "Oorah bro."

Clotilda shook her head. They didn't have time to discuss anything else at this time: their base and mundane personnel were getting shot up! "We haven't time for any more distractions! We will have to use a display of force to get them to stand down and keep our soldiers from getting killed. Everyone: gather weapons and mount your strikers! MOVE!"

"You heard the girl, let's get our butts in gear!" Shirley urged.

As they began mounting their strikers and grabbing their weapons they could see the soldiers of the other world acting promptly in returning fire they were being given while their own soldiers were in a panic, though fortunately the American's gave encouragement and urging to motivate their base personnel to return fire. It was the first time in decades that man in their world raised its hand against other men; a very surreal experience. It seemed as though some of the hostile fire was coming from the base; did the human enemies from the other world infiltrate their base before the fist of reinforcements drove its way into their base grounds? A few of the strange, weird vehicles drove past the hanger, shooting up three mundane soldiers and killing them, their bodies turned into jelly from the heavy weapons fire.

As Clotilda and the other witches roared out of the hanger she could see the American's small arms returning enemy fire from the approaching hostile force. She noticed Cord running towards Morgan with the rangers machinegun in one hand and his MP40 in the other. Tossing the other man his weapon he quickly managed to shoot out the window of one of these stubby jeep like vehicles with mounted guns, killing the driver and quickly tossed a Stielhandgranate through the weakened window, followed by an explosion of the grenade after it landed inside, the concussion killing the men within.

Morgen looked to Cord with surprise, then to the damaged vehicle coming to a halt and back again. "Damn, that was a good throw dude." he said, pulling back and then pushing forward on the charging handle of what she had come to learn was called an "M240" machinegun.

Cord blinked. "I think that was just luck, to be honest." he responds.

"Well, either way, I'm not complaining."

The witches then quickly took up positions on the base grounds and in the sky, their weapons leveled and ready to fire at a moment's notice, although many of the girls were hoping they wouldn't have to. The enemy's small arms fire died down as the soldiers all looked at the girls with looks of shock. When the gunfire died down a bit Clotilda spoke authoritatively. "All hostile personnel: lay down your weapons and surrender immediately or you will be fired upon!" She hopped she wouldn't have to follow through on that threat.

After a moments silence a couple of the men spoke in dumbfounded or panicked Orussian, pointing at the girls in amazement. Some parts she didn't understand but she recognized one sentence that she could remember from serving with Orussian witches: "Open fire! Kill them all!"

Small arms fire started getting dumped upon not only the mundane soldiers but on the witches themselves. All the subordinate witches bleated and braced themselves, their shields raised and stopping bullets aimed at them with the intent of killing them. The land battle witches all froze up while air infantry witches quickly became mobile: they had never been fired upon humans before with killing intent and live ammunition. Clotilda saw a mundane Ranger take an errant round to the face and was killed instantly. A grenade tossed by the hostile Orusssian's exploded killing four of the base personnel. They hadn't heeded the order to surrender. They were still hell bent on killing people.

Ludwiga flew up alongside the commander of the 78th and looked with a firm, urging look. "Clotilda, what are your orders? Our girls have to defend themselves and the mundane soldiers."

After racking her brain trying to think of a alternative solution that just wouldn't come, Clotilda finally looked to her to her 2IC and spoke shakily. "...we have no choice. We must do what we must to defend ourselves, our comrades and this base. I take full responsibility for this order: all witches are to engage the hostile soldiers. We must defend this base and repel the enemy at all costs." She really gave the order: to stain the hands of herself and her fellow witches with the blood of human beings. Witches were born and trained to protect humanity... what she had just ordered her girls and herself to do was now running counter to everything a witch stood for.

Ludwiga, however, seemed to be unfazed by these orders, her expression blank and stoic. "Roger." As she began to descend to the ground to a strafing altitude she relayed the orders to the girls. "All witches be advised: our orders from Captain Marwick are that you're clear to engage the hostile soldiers. Defend your comrades and this base!"

Yoshika spoke in fearful protest. "NO! I WON'T KILL ANOTHER HUMAN BEING! I WONT!"

Olivia spoke in surprise. "Oh shit, this is real! We're getting fucking lit up by people shooting live rounds!"

Clotlilda had to lead by example, diving after her 2IC, she catches up to her and levels her Thompson. The sights of her weapon fell upon two hostile soldiers. Her hands shook, but at last she found the strength to squeeze the trigger. The .45 calibre rounds impacted the human targets, blood and organs blowing out the backs of both soldiers. Clotilda caught her breath: she really had just killed two men, the damage to their bodies made by the Magically augmented bullets was massive. It was the first time in five decades, perhaps even longer, that a witch had taken a human life.

At this the other witches of the 78th saw what their commander had done. Shakily they turn from the Captain to the men firing at them, the rounds of the hostiles impacting their shields as hectic firefights broke out around them. Men on all sides were getting killed or maimed by gunfire. They all leveled their weapons and the girls of the 501st took to higher altitudes to avoid shooting and getting shot at. The Tame Witches shuddered.

"NO! NO DON'T SHOOT THEM! WE HAVE TO MAKE THEM TO STOP ANOTHER WAY!" Yoshika pleaded.

Ludwiga then shouted in frustration. "All witches: Feuer frei!" she ordered, lighting up a group of the hostile men with her Machinegwehr 15, machinegun rounds tearing through the men's bodies, many of them getting gibed by the Karlslander's machinegun. She then turned to a truck full of soldiers and shouted: "Detonate!" The discharge of concentrated ether overturned the truck and knocked the men out of the vehicle and onto the tarmac only to be cut down by the mundane troops. At this Olivia was next to fire, her Browning M2 opening up on more hostile troops, she started to track dash around the base grounds while firing on the go. Eventually every other witch of the 78th, with great reluctance, opened fire on the enemy troops killing and wounding both the Americans and the base personnel, with Erzsi being the last witch of the 78th to open up, damaging one of the eight wheeled vehicles with her cannon.

Clotilda made a wide turn to make another straifing pass, as she did she saw the 501st in the sky, crouded together. It was clear that they were in shock.

"Oh no! This is horrible!" Lynne wailed, horrified at what she was seeing: witches were actually shooting and killing people, even though they were hostile and beligerant. Yoshika acctually started crying at seeing such a terrible thing unfolding, as she started to weep he striker suddenly faultered, causing her to belat loudly. Lynne caught her girl friend and looked to her with worry. "Are you alright Yoshika?"

"I...I don't know." The Fuso girl tearfuly admits in hesitation.

Lucchini then spoke, the M4A1 that she had been using and training with for a while in her right hand. "Shirley what do we do?!" she asked urgently.

Clotilda spoke in a shaky voice. "Captain, you girls are not doing anybody any good just flying in one spot! You're not just witches: you're soliders! Carry out your duties and return enemy fire!"

Shirley blinked as sweat was pouring from her brow. But after a moment of pause her face hardened. "Y-your right. This is a new enemy to face and they are killing people that we have to protect. We can't let them take this base or kill our soldiers."

"But Shirley...!" Lynne cried out in protest.

"Shirley, you can't! Please don't do it Shirley!" Yoshika pleased, tears streaming down her face.

"Hey, they aren't giving us a choice. Either we fight back or they'll end up killing everyone on this base. We can't let that happen." Her face then lightened at Yoshika. "You don't have to shoot if you don't want to. Just shield people from attacks or heal the wounded. Just do what you can, alright?"

Yoshika blinked in tearful surprise, after a moment of thought she finally nods. "O-okay. I... I want to protect everyone so I can... I can do that."

Clotilda then spoke. "So long as everyone does their part, just keep your focus! Now let's go! Engage!" As everyone then broke to tend to their duties on their besieged base grounds, with Shirley leading Lucchini on a strafing run on a set of windows of the main base where hostile fire was coming from, and hesitantly Perrine using Tonnere on a group of the hostile forces on the ground, Clotilda heard a horrible scream over her comm-link.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Junior Sergeant Darya Abakumova...<strong>

**Affiliation... 78th Tame Witches Combined Reserve Squadron...**

**Location... 501st Witches Base, Romagna. Base Post Op ward...**

**Time: 19:23 hours...**

The sounds of gunfire tore through the hallway, the doctor standing adjacent to Air Infantry Sniper Ámbar Abilio, was getting shot up by small arms fire. Ámbar bleats while turning to the men who killed the doctor and raises her Solothurn at them. The nurse that was in the door frame tired to turn and run into the post op but a stray bullet caught her in the back and she collapsed to the floor. She started to try crawling away as the young witch tired to hold her ground.

"S-stay back!" the young witch's hands shook as she held her weapon at the men. She fired a round, but Darya couldn't be sure that the girl hit anyone. She was much too scared to care. Jenna stood in front of the Orussian girl with her Colt .45 drawn. Her Liberon Flame and this fellow witch were really going to risk their lives for her! Ámbar fired again while rounds impacted her shield. Suddenly the girl's body jerked forward as she cried out, her eyes going wide as a shocked, pained look settled on her face. As she stumbled forward Darya could see to her horror what had happened: one of the men had snuck up behind the young girl and plunged his rifle mounted bayonet into her body, the witches back exposed and unable to raise her shield from this unseen threat. Her large Anti-tank rifle slipped from her grasp and fell heavily to the floor. Darya screamed. As that happened another man surged into view and plunged a rifle mounted bayonet into the small girls heart. The young witches eye's turned lifeless and once the men slid the bayonets out of her body she crumpled to the floor.

_Those men just killed her! Men had just KILLED a witch!_ Darya heard Jenna roar loudly in rage as she started to fire at the men with her Liberion pistol. She shot one of the men in the neck but the other rolled into the doorframe. Jenna then shouted a few colourful insults and curses at the men who had just murdered one of their comrades. She was met with a grenade rolling into the room in response, coming to rest by the injured nurses head, not too far from Jenna's feet.

"Oh shit! Grenade!" Jenna stood between Darya and the grenade. A loud detonation rang out, filling the room with a flash and explosion of shrapnel filling the room. The blast throws Jenna back into Darya's lap, her shield taking the full brunt of both the explosion and the shrapnel. Jenna looked clearly winded from the blast and dazed. The nurse who was on the floor was killed, her body reduced to a caved in, bloody, shrapnel ridden corpse. Darya reached for Jenna as she watches Erin get up out of her bed and reaching for a bedpan.

The men in the hall enter the post op, two men trailing behind one of the lead men and around five other men following close behind. Two of the men's rifles settle on a pair of cowering medical staff and gun the men down. The lead man of this squad spots Erin and fires at her, but her shield takes the brunt of the rounds easily. The one armed girl had a look of rage in her eyes as she held the bedpan in her hand. Once she was close enough to the men that had now looked at her with surprise, Erin splashed the man with the smelly liquid contents of her bedpan. The man shouted and cussed loudly in what sounded to Darya as Orussian, and was then promptly being beaten by Erin with her now empty bedpan. However the man then grabs Erin's arm with one hand and the other by her hair, drags her over to a window and upon grabbing her by her leg and arm throws her out the 3rd story window and onto the base grounds below.

This was horrible to the small Orussian. Strange men, speaking her countries language, were hurting and killing people! Then to her horror their eyes settled on her and Jenna. Taking Jenna and wrapping her arms around her the Orussian girl spoke to them fearfully to the men in her native language of Orussian. _"No please! Please don't kill us!" _She begged.

The men seemed to have a moment of pause after she spoke to them. They looked to her with questioning looks._"You're a Russian?"_ One of the men asked.

_"I'm an Orussian. Why are you doing this? What do you want from us?!"_ She responds to the man. She remembered that the two British men of the Task Force and the three men of Hunter-2-1 told her about the Russians from their world, a twisted parallel of her beloved mother land. If these men were Russian's then she had reason to rightfully fear them.

The man momentarily raised an eyebrow but then a scowl settled on his face. _"We are soldiers of the Inner Circle. What we want is the American dogs and a means of returning home! We demand to know where we are...tell us and we will have no quarrel with you, little comrade."_

Darya trembled as she clutched tightly to Jenna from behind. "_I-I don't understand... w-why are you attacking us? W-why did you just kill that girl?!" _ Darya was quite afraid, these men had killed a witch and their comrades were killing other people outside. Why was this happening? She didn't know how all this could happen.

_"She was a threat, so we neutralized the threat. Now answer our questions child We have no time for playing games of twenty questions."_

Before Darya could respond Jenna spoke weakly. "Darya... whatever happens; you don't give these murdering bastards a thing."

One of the men spoke curtly at Jenna. "Shut up, American bitch! If you know what's good for you..."

"Liberion..." Jenna corrected.

The man blinked. "What?"

"I'm a Liberion. America is just an alternate counterpart of my country." she weakly stated.

The men looked at each other, exchanging glances as if saying they thought she was crazy. One of the men then turned angry, pulled back the charging handle of his weapon and aimed it at the Liberion witch. "Do you want to die for that crazy speaking tongue of yours, little Yankee harlot?!"

The smaller girl clutched tightly to and enveloped Jenna. "No, Please! Please! Please don't butt out my Liberion flame! Please...don't take my Jenna away from me..." she begged tearfully.

The men seemed to be in shock of this. After a moment that shock was then soon replaced by a dangerous anger and looks of killing intent. The man leading these brutish murderers spoke with ire in his voice. "A Russian siding with a greedy Capitalist pig?! That's a betrayal of the motherland!"

"And the way she speaks of this Yankee, it's sounds as though she's a young dyke!" Another man observes in disgust.

"We should kill them both!" A man with a strange shotgun cocked his weapon, a shotgun shell being ejected from the chamber threateningly.

Another man looked at Darya with a gut churning, perverted look. "No, leave the white haired traitor... let us teach her that her place is to serve a man!"

At that last comment Jenna's weary eyes hardened and focused solely on the last man to speak. "You won't lay a damned, dirty hand on my girlfriend!" The men leveled their weapons as Jenna's side arm snapped up at them. "IF YOU TOUCH MY ORUSSIAN SNOWFLAKE: I'LL KILL YOU!" However, before either party could open fire the sound of gunfire rang out and blood began to spatter from the Russians. Both girls seemed stunned as the bodies of then men crumpled to the ground. Only one man seemed to be alive, but heavily wounded.

Darya saw James and Carmen enter the post up. As the Russian man turned over with his pistol drawn Carmen emptied the remaining thirty rounds of the M249 into the man, his body getting shredded by the high-velocity 5.56mm rounds. As she reloaded her weapon, and then went to check on the downed witch, James looked to the two shaken girls.

"Are you two alright?" he asked worriedly.

Jenna's pistol hand came to rest on the bed, she wore a expression of relief on her face. "Relatively speaking, yeah." she responds with a sigh.

Carmen cursed bitterly and walked back over to James with a haunted look in her eyes. "She's gone James. Bastards impaled her with their bayonets."

James had a stunned look on his face and blinked. Then he exhaled sharply. "Damn it all, those fucking child murderers." James took this news very hard. Darya could see that he cared deeply for the girls safety, and seeing that one of the witches was now dead by the hands of these men was clearly disturbing him. He then looked to Darya, looking worried. "W-wait, they said there were three of you girls in here. Where's the other girl?" Darya had a tearful, look in her eyes as her lip trembled. She then turned silently to the broken window that Erin was thrown out of, to which James followed her gaze as a look of horror formed on his features. "Oh god no..." He rushed over to the window to see what the one armed girls condition was, although Darya was to afraid to even see what her status was.

"They... they threw her out the window..." Darya finally sobs out. She never felt so powerless before in her entire life.

James however turns from the window sill and back to Carmen with a urgent look. "Yo sis, have you got a flare on ya?"

She nods in response. "Hell yeah, but why?"

"Because she's still alive, I saw her stirring a little on the ground: I need to signal Yoshika and Erzsi to her location and patch her up!" Wordlessly Carmen reaches into one of her many pockets and Darya sees her produce a small, stubby orange pistol like devise and tosses it to James. Upon catching it the American Ranger sends a message over his radio. "Yoshika! Erzsi! The post op is secure and we have confirmed casualties. We have four medical staff KIA, one witch KIA and another one that's wounded! The wounded girls hurt bad, she was tossed out the window: find her under the red flare!" Once his message was complete he held the flare gun out the window sill and shot straight up into the air.

Darya looked worriedly to her beloved Jenna. "Jenna, are you... are you sure you're not hurt?" she asked tearfully.

Jenna nods as she looks to Darya. "Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?"

"Yes, I am." She then looks over to Ámbar as her tears started to flow freely. "They... they killed Ámbar. They killed... one of our firends..." Jenna's face twinged painfully at that and said nothing in response. Her hand then reached for the Orussian girl and her hand cradled her head. Darya meanwhile continued to weep; the world of the witches was now forever changed... blood of men had now stained their hands... and they now saw firsthand the horrors of men taking human life.

That was something Darya would never forget... no matter how hard she could try...

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking... Captain Charlotte "Shirley" Yeager... <strong>

** Affiliation... 501st Joint fighter Wing, Strike Witches...**

**Time: 19:39 hours...**

Shirley cursed as she strafed a truck that was trying to escape her, having heard the message James sent over on the radio. "I hear you James. Yoshika, Erzsi! One of our girls needs help. If you see that flare, get over there to help her out, you copy?" Both girls give an answer in the affirmative but Shirley frowned. This was bad: these guys actually managed to kill a witch and wound another? This was beyond unforgiveable in her mind. As Shirley moved to finish off the fleeing truck heavy calibre auto cannon fire smacked into her shield and winded her. One of the damned eight wheeled vehicles was shooting at her.

Lucchini was following some five meters behind her and spoke angrily at the men attacking the base. "Go away! All of you bastards leave us alone!" She fired the M4A1 in her hands and manage to tag a few of these "Russians" on the ground. Shirley may not have felt very good about all this, but their was little else that they could do.

As she made a long turn Shirley suddenly heard something screaming towards her followed by her feeling something heavy smack into her shield. A rocket! it shattered her shield and as she momentarily lost about fifteen feet of altitude she then felt the sting of small arms fire stitch their way into her torso. She crash landed onto the base grounds next to a wing of the primary keep of the base.

"Shirley!" Lucchini's voice cried out in panic over the radio and she descended to the downed Liberion girl. "Shirley, are you alright? Please don't die on us!" Shirley could only groan painfully in response.

"W-what, Shirley's been hit!?" Lynne asked in a panic.

"She's been shot! Shirley's been shot! Yoshika, please help save Shirley!" Lucchini pleaded.

"Oh no! Erzsi, please can you help Erin, I have to go help save Shirley!"

"No problem, you go help your squadmate, I'll take care of Erin."

No sooner did the exchange over radio ended a sudden explosion blows a hole in the side of the keep that Shirley and Lucchini were next to. Four men are sent flying from two stories up along with stones and mortar to the base grounds below.

Shirley looked up to see Erica clutching to her twin sister Ursula. "Erica?" She had barley seen the blond haired Karlslander leave her room in over a month!

"No one tries to hurt my sister!" Erica spoke sternly to the now injured men now laying on the ground in a broken heap. It seemed like the Karlsland ace had used Sturm on these guys.

However just when Shirely thought things couldn't get any more stressful, she heard Lucchini cry out in surprise. Turning around painfully as blood started to seep into her eyes she could see a man in a Tan Beret and another man to his right belt out orders to the men attacking the base. "All men be advised: I managed to capture a hostage: initiate full retreat, that's an order!" The man in the beret started to drag the smaller girl away. Ursula and Erica shouted at the two men and Erica herself drew her pistol and fired three rounds at them but automatic gunfire was returned and they both took cover.

Shirley flew into a panic, she slowly tried to crawl after the man, her arm reaching for the little Romagnan desperately as her blood was seeping out of her and onto the ground. "No... not Lucchini. Don't you dare take Lucchini! Let her go!" She turned to Ursula in a panic as the man handed the little girl off to his subordinate who got into a truck of men and how man himself got into jeep as the surviving men and vehicles all started to peal out of the base, their short lived raid finished. All Shirley could think of however was that these men had taken her young wingmate. "THEY TOOK LUCCHINI! THOSE MEN JUST TOOK LUCCHINI! SOMEONE GET HER BACK!"

It was then that James spoke over the radio. "Oh hell no! No way in hell their taking her! I'll go get her, the rest of you guys hold down the fort!"

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking ... Private James Ramirez...<strong>

**Affiliation... Hunter-2-1, 75th Ranger Regiment...**

**Time: 19:56 hours...**

James was running to the motor pool as fast as his legs could carry him. His mind raced as his lungs struggled to keep up with him. There was no way he would ever let monsters like this get their hands on Lucchini. Upon reaching the motor pool after three minutes of non-stop running from the post op, having his sister hold down that wing of the base just incase, some of the men that he recognized from earlier as motor pool mechanics noticed him with frustrated looks.

"You again?! What the damned hell do you want?! We remember what happened the last time you came to this motor pool." The lead mechanic spat in furstration. The stress of that earlier indiscretion and the base being besieged was clearly wearing the man ragged.

James looks to the men pleadingly. "I know, I know, I'm sorry about earlier but we haven't time for this! I need a jeep."

"A jeep, why in the world would we lend you a Jeep after what happened when you and your friends had to steal one at gunpoint?" another man demands.

"Because those bastards just kidnapped one of the witches! They took Lucchini with them!" he blurted out.

At this the men of the motorpool had horrified looks. "One of our cutie witches has been kidnapped by these murderous bastards?!" The lead mechanic exclaimed. He turned to the others in a panic, his attitude towards James had now changed promptly with knowledge that the lives of one of the girls was in danger. "Have we got a Jeep with a full tank of gas?" he asks firmly.

A third mechanic nods. "Yeah this one over there, full tank plus a full jerry can of petrol in the back." He quickly hands James the keys to the jeep in question and looks urgently at the Ranger. "Please, I beg you lad, bring our young maiden of the sky back to us!"

"I intend to, thanks for helping me."

"If it's for our girls then we'd give our very lives for them if we have to. Now quit standing around and go save her lad!"

James gave a curt nod, bolted over to the waiting jeep and leapt into it. Shoving the key into the ignition he started up the motor and put the vehicle in drive and took off. James drove across the base grounds and through the gate, hot on the tail of the men who had kidnapped the youngest member of the 501st. Sudden thoughts of Julieta came to his mind. He failed to be there to protect his younger sister; he was determined to do his damnedest to not fail Lucchini.

* * *

><p><strong>Tracking ... Ensign Francesca Lucchini...<strong>

**Affiliation... 501st Joint fighter Wing, Strike Witches...**

**Location... Rivalta Countryside, West of Mantua...**

**Time: 20:33 hours...**

As the truck rocked side to side Lucchini looked to each of the bad men again for the fourth time. Each of the six men in the back of the truck were keeping an eye on her for a while, but had now settled down, their attention on other things, their weird rifles were at rest in front of them. A few of these men had bruises and bloodied cuts adorning their faces lips, one man was clutching his side painfully and another his hand, which had bite marks on it. She noticed that one of the men had a grenade on his vest like armor. It was just sitting there, beckoning her; the pin within easy access. Though she hadn't tried to do something dangerous like this towards mundane soldiers or anyone really for that matter, she remembered what James and the others told them about men like this.

With a look of determination she held her breath, then in one quick motion reached forward and yanked the pin out of the grenade. The men sitting next to her immediately had tried to restrain her but she had already succeeded. A brief, metallic "ping" sounded as the man looked down at the now live explosive, his comrades sitting adjacent started to pull away from him as he quickly pulled the grenade from his webbing.

"Shit! Grenade!"

At this, an ensuing panic began. With her familiar appearing, Lucchini slipped out of the grasp of the men restraining her, leapt out of the truck and began to run as fast as she can. The men from the truck she had escaped were already bailed out of the vehicle and took cover on the ground in the prone position. Shouting and orders being barked were soon followed by an explosion. As she ran she felt bullets smack repeatedly into her shield. She didn't like having human bullets hit her shield, it didn't feel right to her. She had to force that feeling away and focus on running. She tried to look for a place to slip into and hide but so far she was finding nothing; no bushes, not forests. There was a short ditch, but that wouldn't do her any good.

All she could do was run. While she tried to keep putting as much distance between her captors and herself the "whoosh" and explosion of a rocket weapon went off behind her. Her shield took the brunt of the impact and the shockwave but it knocked her off her feet and winded her. As she slowly tried to shake herself back to her senses voices shouted out behind her, followed not long after by several hands gripping her arms. The "Russian" men were shouting angrily and handling the small girl roughly.

"Damned brat! That's the fifth time she's tried to escape!" One man snarls angrily.

Another man turned to the first and spoke with agreement. "Little freak is more trouble then she is worth. We should just kill her and be done with this."

"That's enough! Get her back in the truck, that's an order!" The man with the tan beret belted out an order to his disgruntled men. Lucchini didn't like this man: she had seen a few bad men before, but this one was a very bad man. A very, very bad man. He then pointed to one of the six men holding Lucchini down. "And handcuff her this time! Why didn't you idiots do that after her last four attempts at escaping?!"

"She kept biting us sir." One of the men responds; some jerk that was pinning Lucchini's head down with his knee. The small girl could feel hands, elbows, knees, feet and an entire man's body pinning her down. She struggled and kicked but she had a lot of weight pushing against her even with her magic augmenting her normal strength.

"Idiot! She may be some freak but she is still a child. Grow some balls and handcuff her!"

"Get off of me!" she demanded.

"Shut up!" One of the men spat angrily. The butt of a Rifle was pressed firmly into the back of Lucchini's neck, she could feel a painful pressure from the plastic-polymer stock pressing into her. Gritting her teeth in frustration and cursing the men out in Romagnan, handcuffs found their way onto her wrists, both hands behind her back and she was roughly ushered back to the truck, which was now filled with a black blast mark and some shrapnel covering the interior. Once loaded in the men kept their weapons on her at all times the rest of the way. With this much of her magic expended during her escape attempts she wanted to make sure she didn't waste what was left, so she remained patient, relatively speaking.

After another hour driving along with glares of anger directed at the small witch the truck once again came to a halt. The very bad man gave some orders to his men, having the convoy split up the first element sent on ahead for scouting. The rest were ordered to dismount with their young prisoner to head to a small house. Once again she was roughly ushered out of the truck and then escorted towards the building. She noticed that the grass seemed to be getting a little tall, as though the lawn went a few weeks without being mowed. She also noticed a large barn a hundred feet or more from the house in the back of the property.

The man with the tan beret knocked on the door with one of his men flanking him with a rifle. Two men flanked either side of Lucchini with rifles and a pair of men with machineguns stood behind them. One man with a sniper rifle and another with a rifle stood behind them in turn as the rest of the men that were left had been ordered to secure the parameter. After a moment of silence, another knock and everyone waiting the door opens. A kindly old man with a cane appeared at the door, but his smile falters a bit at seeing the large group of armed men at the door, a look of surprise and confusion upon him. His smile soon returns, however, and he speaks in a friendly tone towards the men.

"Ah, hello my friends. How can I help you gentlemen today?" he asked.

Mr Tan Beret looked to the old man with a look that Lucchini wasn't able to gauge. "Forgive me sir, but my men and I are in need of a favor." his voice asks with an oily feel to it.

"A favour then? Are you soldiers of some sort?" the man asks.

"In a matter of speaking. I'm sorry if we are causing too much trouble." The tone that he took made Francesca think that he didn't really mean what he said.

The old man didn't seem to notice and spoke with genuine sincerity. "I'm not sure if anything I have would be of much use to you but for any of our lads fighting on the front lines I'll gladly do what I can. What can I get for-" The man then noticed Lucchini and his face lit up. "Oh, why hello young one, aren't you a cute little girl."

Lucchini gave a subdued smile despite herself. "Thank you sir." A part of her wanted to warn the man about these scary people, some part of her was ready to blurt it out... but something deep inside her made her stay silent. She felt that being open with this information blatantly would have been a bad thing... she realized she needed to be subtle for once.

"Are you by chance a witch? You girls truly are our greatest hope in this war. You make sure you do your best and be careful, alright?" Lucchini nods in response but her smile evaporates and a look of worry crosses her. The man seems to notice this and can see that she had her hands cuffed behind her. "Have you been keeping out of trouble sweetheart?" Lucchini felt her body shrink and a worried expression filled her eyes, she gazed at the old man with a cautioning look, her eyes briefly darting to the men that surrounded her. The old man noticed this and turned to the men questioningly. "What has this sweet young child done to warrant handcuffs?" he asked.

"Just a precaution." Tan beret responds. "She is... how do you say... a handful..."

The man's friendly face turns somewhat guarded. "I see." he responds simply.

"About my question. Forgive me if this seems like much but I require the use of your domicile. I'd be appreciative if you allowed us access to it."

"My house? Why would you need my house?" The elderly man asked in surprise. "My dearly departed wife and I have lived here for many long years." After a moment a concerned look filled the elderly man. "Is it that the Neuroi are coming here? Do you need it for hiding or observation?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Neuroi?"

"No? If it's not Neuroi then why would you need with my house. I cannot move from here. What little I have left of my belongings and that of my darling wife is here." After a pause the elderly man speaks again. "I can give you food and water if you need any. Perhaps some wine?" The man offers. "I can give you that should you need it."

"I'm afraid we need much more than that, old man."

"It's all I have to offer, I haven't anymore."

"Sir... I recommend you cooperate. My men and I are short of both time and patience." The man rested his hand on his pistol that was holstered at his side and grinned. "You can either give us access to this house or we can take it. And I have no problem with taking it if need be."

"What?! Take my house?! You can't do that!" The old man's eyes and face hardened at this. "I've never in my life seen and heard of such a thing! Just who-" A sudden realization crossed his face as his eyes darted to Lucchini, then back to the man. "What do you plan on doing with this young witch?" he asked slowly, his cane thumping on the wooden floor demandingly.

Tan beret looks to the man for a moment, then turns to his rifleman standing next to him and nods. The man's gaze shifts from tan beret to the old widower. The rifle in his hands snaps up to a hip firing position and proceeds to fire a five round burst, while the man in the tan beret unholstered his pistol and fired five rounds into the man, much to Lucchini's horror. Blood from the old man spurts out, his arms flailing as he falls backward into his home and his cane clattering to the wooden floor. He hits the ground with a heavy thud, blood spatters on the walls and starts to ooze onto the wooden floor from his body. He lay unmoving.

After a moment of horrified shock, staring at the now dead old man's shot up body, Lucchini turned angrily to the man in the tan beret. "You killed him! Why did you do that?! He was a good man, why did you kill him!? He didn't do anything to you!" she demanded.

"He had something I wanted and wasn't going to give it to me. So, I ensured that I would get what I want: with or without his consent."

Lucchini was incredulous. "That's you're reason?! Just because he wouldn't give you his house!? You monster! You murderer!" She tried to take a kick at the man but one of his cronies pulled her back, her foot missing her target by mere inches. "I'll kick your ass you bastard!"

The man with the beret ignored her and motioned into the building. "Get her inside." As he moved inside he stepped over the slain mans cooling body. "And someone get this old fools bones buried out back and clean up this mess. Don't need this idiot's rotted carcass and blood blocking the door."

Being ushered into the house Lucchini was forced into the living room as the guy in the tan beret and his men began looting the house of anything of worth. Food, drink, valuable possessions. Anything not nailed down and light enough found its way into the hands of these men. _They're a bunch of murderers and thieves. I can't believe people like this can even exist! I thought only the mafia were bad, but these guys make them look like a bunch of school yard bullies._ Lucchini thought bitterly. A worrisome thought came to her. J_ust how many people are like this in the other world?_ The image of the kindly old man's face kept replaying in her mind. She had seen death before up-close... but never before had she seen the death of one man at the hands of another. Her stomach twisted itself into knots. She started to wonder how James and the others could stand fighting in a world where this was happening 24/7. They surely would have gone mad; she knew she sure would have.

After sometime stewing in her own thoughts and the men started to settle down, the man who lead this pack of thugs with guns approached Lucchini with one man beside him holding a rifle at the ready. He spoke to her. "My name is Moriz Glazkov. I have questions for you, little girl. I would appreciate it if you provided me with the proper answers that I seek." Lucchini looked towards this man that she hated for a moment and then turned to the wall, not wanting anything to do with the man in question. "Not in the mood for talking? Well, well, that's no good. I realize that we may have... gotten off on the wrong foot... but..." he took a knee next to Lucchini and drew her face to him with his hand, turning her head to make her look at him. "That doesn't mean we cannot have a civilized discussion." Lucchini turned her head away from the man's grasp in disgust. He simply smirked and continued. "Besides, you saw what I did with the old man, you may want to be more co-operative, unless either you or any of your friends would like to meet similar fates."

Lucchini looked with shock at this man, not believing what she was hearing come out of his mouth. He was threatening to hurt... maybe even kill...her friends. This man truly was without limits. As strong and experienced as her fellow witches were something was gnawing inside her about this man and his subordinates. But she didn't want to give the man what he wanted... what could she do? After a moment's thought, she had an idea. "Can you un-cuff me? My arms are getting tired; if you do that then I'll probably tell you what you wanna know."

Glazkov smirked. "Do you really think I am that stupid?"

"I never said anything about you being stupid. My arms are tired. I promise I'll behave. I won't try anything to make you mad, okays?" she says sweetly. _Come on ya sucker. Fall for it._ She urged inwardly.

Glazkov clearly didn't seem to buy it, but a sly smirk found its way onto his face. It was the same smile that a snake would give before biting you. It made Lucchini shudder a little bit, but her determined face held firm. His hand slowly reached for her, his rough hand caressing the side of her face. The feel of him touching her made her cringe and she tried to pull away from him. And the ways his eyes looked when he was gazing at her: it's almost as though he saw her as some sort of prize, a trophy. Or something worse. He gave a light chuckle. "Such a pretty young child you are, I wonder... yes, I think you don't need these pigtails."

The man's hands then proceeded to undo her pigtails, much to her shock, confusion and frustration. "Hey! What do you think you're doing, you jerk?!" She demanded. She couldn't believe that this man was just doing whatever he wanted. She really was starting to hate him even more, and was really getting uncomfortable being touched by him.

After letting down her hair and casting aside her ribbons, he took a moment to look at her, his hand cupping her chin and forcing her to look at him. His hand then caressed her face. "Such a pretty face you have with your hair down..." he murmured to her, his hand running through her hair. Lucchini felt creeped out by this guy; he was acting weird, and that look in his eyes... she would almost say it was a pervy look that Eila had when she was mischievous about touching other girls. But there was a major difference between how Eila looked at other girls and how this man was looking at her.

The look in his eyes... it was a look of intent that wanted to hurt Lucchini. To dominate her. To do things that she probably wouldn't like. That she was nothing but a toy to play with and amuse himself. Him being this close to her and touching her; it made her feel sick... but she didn't know why... it just didn't feel right. The man at last talks to her with a serious tone. "I'll tell you what: you answer a couple questions, I'll un-cuff you. After that, you can help me with whatever other inquiries I might have and I might see to it that you go free. Provided, of course, your truthful. Does that sound good to you?"

Lucchini growled quietly; this jerk was smart, though he was still a weirdo. She had to be smarter. "Fine." she responds simply. For now she just had to make sure she stalled for time. At least until she could think of something else for a plan. Maybe find an opening if one shows up. "What do you want me to tell you?"

The man took a chair that was within reach of him and sat in it, looking to her with a calculating look. "What is your name?" he asked.

"I'm Ensign Francesca Lucchini of the 501st Joint fighter Wing: Strike Witches. Formerly Sovrana Aeronautica Romagniana 4th Air Unit."

The Russian man laughed in amusement at this. "Heh, that's funny. Did you hear that comrades: this little child is playing soldier." The men laughed at this, which really annoyed Lucchini. She didn't see how what she said was funny. He looked back to her and spoke with amusement. "Shouldn't a pretty little girl like you be playing with dolls?"

"I'm an Ensign of the Romagnan Air Force you idiot! If you don't believe me that's your problem."

His face straightens. "Alright then, I'll play along. Where exactly are we: the map my comrades and I have acquired makes no sense to us."

"You're in Romagna, my home country; and you guys aren't welcome here! Why don't you just go home or something before you get your butts kicked?"

Glazkov looked a little smug, amused by her outburst. "Oh, then your acting like a very poor host then. Keep that up and you might find yourself with some very unhappy guests." Her eyes looked intensely at him after the implied threat that he levied. She knew that if this man really wanted to, he would likely try and carry it out. So she kept silent. "Tell me, little girl. That old man, he said something about... what was the word? Neuroi? Tell me: who are the Neuroi?"

She looked flatly at the man as she explained. "The Neuroi are aliens that invaded our world. They already took over most of Europe, Orussia, and the Pacific. People have lost a lot to the Neuroi and the only effective way to fight them is with us witches." she responds.

The Russian man blinks as his men whisper quietly to each other. "Aliens? Is this some sort of joke?" Glazkov asks.

"No, it's the truth. I'm a witch: you saw my magic in action for yourself. You wanna keep putting your heads in the dirt and ignore me that's totally up to you. When you see a Neuroi laser your friends don't go crying to me about not giving you warning."

At this a lot of the reactions of the men were mixed. Some of them scoffed at this news and made clear their disbelief of this information. The others however, looked as though they were more believing about it; looks of stunned silence or hushed murmurs radiated through their ranks. The fact they were talking to a witch with real, honest to god magic was something that they couldn't really deny at least.

"Aliens? That is what you fight? You mean your country's don't make war with each other? Isn't there a nation with the most power or influence that yours would wish to covet?"

She shrugged. "I dunno about any of that other stuff, but our countries don't fight each other; we work together to fight the Neuroi. Why would we want to try and do something as stupid as fight each other for? We have Neuroi to fight: that's much more important to deal with than anything like that."

"I see..." After a thoughtful pause he motions to two men to cover the girl with rifles and for another to un-cuff the small girl. Upon his men doing so he then adds. "I've allowed you to have your hands free, but I warn you, any funny business or lies and they will be put back on, if not something worse. Be grateful that I've chosen to be... generous, with you..." he said with that sickening smile.

With her hands unbound Lucchini glanced at each of the men surrounding her with a frown. She still wasn't in a favorable position; two guys with guns trained on her. As talented as she was in the realm of magic she knew that she had to wait for the right moment. Any sooner or later would cost her dearly. Normally she would rush in with dynamic energy, but doing so right now would have been too dangerous.

Glazkov seemed unsure of what to make of the information he was given, but his face became rather stern. "Perhaps if making war with each other isn't something as important to you then perhaps it is to help our enemy?" he asked accusingly.

Lucchini had a look of confusion on her face. "What enemy?" she asked.

His smile fell flat as he motioned to a the man who first handcuffed Lucchini and held out his hand. The man took the M4A1 rifle she had used before and tossed it to him. After catching the rifle he held it at her. "This is an American weapon. It was used to take lives of my comrades and countrymen. And back on your base you had American's in your company. The American's are our enemy: anyone who sides with the American dogs are an enemy of ours. You see the dilemma here, do you not?"

"That's stupid! Why would just being friends with someone you don't like make us your enemy? That's like saying that you hate someone for liking Udon when you like pasta instead!"

Glazkov scoffed and cast the M4A1 at a man off to the side of the room, which was caught. "Silly girl. You think the American's are hero's or something, that they are without blood on their hands or sin on their souls? Or are you just ignorant of the truth?" he asks her. Lucchini didn't understand what this Russian was talking about. She got to talk with the men from the other world and heard of the things that have happened in that worlds history. And quite a bit of it was terrible. This guy was trying to paint himself and his men as the good guys. But she knew better.

The man then looked Lucchini up and down with a look she wasn't able to make out. His eyes wandered across her in a manner that, much to her revulsion, was pervy in the extreme, and not in the same way either she or Eila did when either of them groped other girls; this man seemed to be doing so with his horrible, icy gaze and a seemingly evil intent. "Tell me something: why is it your dressed that way, little girl?" he asked at last.

"It's my uniform." Lucchini responds matter of factly as the man had an amused look across his face. _Seriously, is this guy really that dumb?_ She wondered silently._ Or is he... don't tell me he likes me! Urgh, no way: that's gross! Forget this guy!_

The man smiled at that. "More like half a uniform. Unless half a uniform is the uniform. Are you sure that fighting in battle isn't your only duty?" The men made light laughter that sent sickening chills up and down her spine. What was this guy talking about?

"What the hell do you mean, huh? I don't get it."

"Oh, I'm sure there must be a reason for you to be dressed in something so revealing." he mused softly. Before long however a man walks into the room calling for Glazkov about a transmission on the radio. He turns back to her for a moment. "I'll be back little girl. You behave until I return, Da?" he then turned to the rest of the men. "Watch her. If she misbehaves, subdue her, but do not kill. Is that clear?" At receiving an answer in the affirmative her stepped out of the room and out the front door of the house leaving her alone with his men, a few of which wandered off to adjacent rooms, leaving her with two guards a man going through the old man's belongings.

As Lucchini looked about the room she could see that she might have an opening. Each of the widows and a back door to the yard outside could make for a good escape. A few of the men were taking to each other in rooms adjacent, and the two men that were holding their rifles at her seemed to be relaxing a bit. The only other man in the room had his back to them. This would be her chance.

She turned to one man with a questioning look. "Hey, I'm thirsty; can I get some water?" she asked.

The man looked at her with a frown then speaks in Russian to his buddy standing next to him After the brief exchange the man reaches for his canteen, unscrews the lid and allows her to drink from it. She made sure that her mouth was completely full, not swallowing a drop: once she was sure she had enough and the man pulled the canteen away she spat half of the water into his face. She surged to her feet as the man fell back with water blinding him. The second man tried to grab her but also received the rest of the water in her mouth in his face as well, getting blinded like his buddy.

At this Lucchini started to run for the back door as the men in the room started to shout and chase after her. No sooner does she open and step out of the door, someone grabs her from behind and roughly drags her back into the house. She promptly stomped on his foot, electing a pained grunt and followed up with an elbow to the face, knocking him away and dazing him. The other men promptly rushed into the room, swarmed the small Romagnan and dragged her to the center of the room, one man closing the door. The men she spat water on had just finished wiping their faces, one of them ordering the others to restrain her. Several sharp slaps to the face came across the small girls cheeks, stinging her painfully with each strike, though she managed to trade blows with the men that had hit her and restrained her, the small girl not wanting to give an inch for them; she had managed in breaking one man's jaw, bruising the ribs of another and even biting a man in the ear so hard that she could taste blood in her mouth. One of the men mounting her took a good pair of kicks to his most vulnerable regions. One of them, a younger man at the back of the group, had a look of mild concern and eventually convinced his comrades to stop striking the small girl. They relented with great reluctance, sharp glares were directed at her for her defiant attempt.

Another man wearing tan and kaki combat gear, a headset radio, combat glasses, a crew-cut and stubble on his face shoved the younger man out of the way and looked over Lucchini with a expression of amusement. "You are a handful, aren't you, little bitch?" Lucchini's face still stung painfully from the blows, her right check felt the most tender, one of the men's strikes hitting the hardest. It felt as if she received a bit of a bruise. The man keeled down and looked her over. "The Captain has good eye when it comes to girls. I have feeling that you do more than fight on battlefront, seeing you dressed like that." His hand found its way to her thigh, resting heavily on her skin, squeezing hard enough to cause a little pain. "Why do you wear such lewd cloths... unless you are trying to seduce men? Is that it, little nympho?"

With a clear look of fear combined with rage Lucchini bought her foot up and planted it sharply upon his face, kicking him away from her. "Quit touching me you bastards! What the hell's wrong with you guys?!"

The man mopped his face, cursed and then chuckled. "You say you don't like being touched, and yet you wear such a thing. Running around in your panties, and yet you try and reject advances from men you seek to attract. You really are a cock-tease."

She didn't know what that meant but she did know that this guy didn't know what he was talking about. But this man... he had the same look in his eyes and body language as the man in the beret; that of a predator. "Why would I care about guys? I love boobies! And Shirley has the biggest boobs of all; they are beautiful, like she is!" She then speaks matter of factly. "Guys don't have boobs. Girl's do. You're not a girl with big boobs so I'm not interested."

The man looked baffled for a moment, as did some of the other men. The man then pulled down his combat glasses with a look of sudden amusement. "Well, well, well. It looks like we have a pretty, perverted young dyke, comrades." An evil, toothy smile formed on his lips as he took her wrist. She tried to pull away but he grabbed her by the collar of her uniform. "Perhaps I can show you the pleasures a man can bring you?"

The man's lips promptly ensnared Lucchini's own! A feeling of horrified shock ran though her body, a strangers slimy lips sucking upon her mouth. No sooner did the man start kissing her she promptly pulled back, spat in his face and then punched him in the jaw.

"Stop that! I don't want to kiss you, ya damn perv!" She couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. _That bastard actually kissed me! What the hell!?_ She fumed silently. But besides getting madder than hell, she was actually starting to get scared.

The man pushed her to the ground and tried to pin her down, straddling her small form. "What's the matter, ya little muff chewing harlot? You don't like kissing? Well, okay then. Perhaps a pair of nice, strong hands on your body will make you feel good." His hands started groping at her body through her uniform, focused primarily on her chest. Weird sensations started to move through her nubs and chest, feelings that felt wrong and unwanted made her squirm. She cried out in protest but he continued to massage her though the fabric of her uniform. She tried to beat repeatedly on the man to get him off her but he was undeterred. A sudden strange feeling that of pleasure mixed with pain that she could feel from the man groping far too hard on her under developed breasts.

"Stop touching me you sicko! Get off! Get off me! Leave me alone!"

"Let's get this damn thing off and get a better look at ya." The man grabbed the center of Lucchini's uniform and pulled as hard as he could, the sound of buttons getting ripped apart cutting through the little Romagnan's ears. She bleated as her chest was exposed to this horrible man.

He started touching her buds as more weird feeling 's ran though her. As he was fondling her chest she felt... almost a strange feeling. Like her body felt good, her chest felt almost tingly... but she didn't like it. The man groped heavily at her small breasts, pain shooting through her as the man grabbed at her. A horrible man, a stranger... a human monster was groping her. He was touching her, and it felt utterly humiliating. Then a hand found its way between her legs.

She screeched in terror as the man's hand started to molest her through her panties. She felt a sudden wash of strange... pleasure from between her legs. But her mind was rattling against the physical pleasures of her body. She didn't want this man touching her. "NO! STOP!" She tried again to punch at the man but he batted her hand out of the way, followed up with another strike across the face. She cried out in pain as the man continued to intrude upon her most special place. Each stroke made Lucchini squirm and kick, when his other hand groped her breasts it was rough, hard, and painful. Lucchini's voice screamed again. "STOP!" Still gazing at Lucchini he started to undo the buttons to his pants. _W-what is he doing?! What is he going to do!? Whatever it is: I don't want it! I don't!_

Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps. Glazkov entered the room and spotted what his subordinate was doing. "Warrant Officer, what do you think you're doing? Just what is happening here?" he demanded evenly.

The subordinate turned slowly with a look of surprise. He made a shrug while looking rather tense. "Uh... she... she tried to escape sir. She claimed she wanted a drink and used the water we gave her to blind the men guarding her. She made a run for it but we got a hold of her and managed to subdue her. I just wanted to ensure she was properly punished, sir."

While this happened Lucchini quickly tried to hide and shield herself; she felt violated. She had some small relief that the man had stopped touching her, but a sickening feeling was working its way into the pit of her stomach; the gaze Glazkov briefly shot to her made her shudder. Glazkov moved towards the man, forced him to his feet by his shoulder, and then spoke to him slowly. "In case you have forgotten: she is my prisoner. As such, I will be first to partake in the spoils and charged with deciding her punishment. Only after when I'm done will I let the rest of you have a turn."

Lucchini's eyes shot out of her sockets and her face turned pale. "W-what!? Spoils?! Turns!?" They talked about her as though she were some trophy, or a ball to pass around. As though she wasn't even a person. Now she was getting frightened... thoughts of escape started flying through her mind like a whirlwind, spinning like a top.

The man spoke again in protest. "But sir: the last time we got a hold of a nice looking piece of tail we didn't even get to have a turn with her when you were through with her." Lucchini didn't know what he was talking about but she had the feeling she didn't want to know.

Glazkov responds. "I'll be sure to leave some of her left for you to enjoy once I'm through, don't you worry. Until then; you wait." He turned to the two of the men and points from them to Lucchini. "Get her clothes off, then cuff her again." he ordered.

At this Lucchini tried to run again. "NO!" She knew now they wanted to do weird, perverted things to her but a dozen hands reached for her and started to tear away her uniform, followed soon after by her panties; though she tried to keep herself clothed and decent, with so many hands reaching and with most of her magical reserves nearly exhausted from her escape attempts she was unable to stop the men from stripping her.

She had never felt so humiliated and ashamed in her entire life: not even when she accidently damaged and had to rebuild Shirley's striker unit, accidently setting off the base alarm, spending all the units funds on things other then what it was meant for and having to hold two full buckets of water as punishment combined made her feel so low. She was exposed to strange, horrible, perverted men. She was then turned over, held face down by five men roughly and her hands cuffed behind her back once again. After they turned her back around she was now facing Glazkov, her naked young body now exposed to him. Her legs snapped shut and an embarrassed, shamed look filled her as she sat facing the man who had captured her.

It was then Lucchini had a full view of Glazkov's horrid face: his cold, calculating brown eyes traipsed over her small form lustfully. His hair was cut short into a buzz-cut under his beret, and over his right eyebrow was a faded scar, as well as another on the left side of his neck, and by his features he seemed to be in his late thirties. If she were able to she would have given him her patented "Lucchini Kick" to the face. But instead she was now vulnerable before him. The young Russian man off to the side had a look of clear discomfort on his face for a fleeting moment but did nothing, his face settling back to neutrality, his eyes cast to the floor.

Glazkov cooed at Lucchini. "Such a beautiful little girl... the men on your base must really like you." As the man drew towards her she quickly tried to move away from him but due to her cuffed hands she was unable to escape him and was soon grasped. The man took her by the shoulders and his mouth enveloped hers in a rough kiss. Lucchini's eyes were wide with fear and one of his hands then groped at her right breast. As he pulled away from her, he spoke. "If you want this to feel good, then I suggest you don't resist. I'd hate to have to see further damage to such a beautiful, sexy little body." His hand caressed her bruised cheek, a sensation of pain bit at her face at the light touch to tender flesh and broken blood vessels under the skin, causing her to wince. "I would be saddened to see such a pretty little face marred further."

Lucchini let out a choked sob as tears started to fill her eyes. This wasn't happening. This wasn't really happening, was it? Even if it really was, she still couldn't believe it._ I want to go home. I don't want to be here anymore._ The small girl lamented silently. Thoughts of the other girls came to her mind, but the one who stuck out the most was Shirley. Her nice, loving smile, her flowing burnt orange head of hair, those friendly blue eyes... and her beautiful, large bust.

But more importantly of all: was Shirley's caring, loving heart. She was Lucchini's first real, true friend who the small girl saw as her surrogate mother figure. She wished and wanted for Shirley or anyone to save her but the thoughts of seeing her older friend... seeing her bleeding so much... her hair matted and her uniform soaked in the iron smelling red fluid that was draining from her body. The image of Shirley reaching out to her and her out to the Liberion girl... she was fearing the fate of her best, dearest friend.

"S-Shirley.. . help... help me..." Tears started to pool further in her eyes. She tried to fight them back; she didn't want this man to get satisfaction from seeing her crying. The man's hands were massaging her tiny bust, each stroke sent an involuntary cascade of pleasure. Then one hand started to glide down her body, deliberate and relentless, until rough hands then clasped at her most precious regions. All the while, her thoughts were of Shirley's smiling face. _Please! Shirley! Somebody! HELP ME!_

A sudden wave of pleasure rushed from her most intimate place and cascaded though her body. Her voice cried out in surprise and pleasure, she had never quite felt such a feeling. It felt nice to her body... but her mind was screaming in protest. Her mind railed against her body. _Why does this feel good?! I don't... I don't want him to touch me there! He's touching my private place! _She screamed for him to stop, her feet striking at him, but by now her magic was drained to the point of being unusable. She had no trump card. His hand continued to molest her womanly parts, her pussy getting wet from being stimulated. She had never felt so ashamed of herself...

"Whatever girl friend you have isn't going to save you, foolish little child. If you want to dress like a slut, you'll be treated as a slut. You and those other damned whores." Glazkov goaded.

"We have to dress like that!" Lucchini sobbed. "We can't use our strikers otherwise..." Why was he doing this? Why was he violating her? What did she do to deserve this? Thoughts of both her mother and Shirley flashed before her eyes. "Mama! Shirley! I want my mama! I want Shirley!"

Glazkov scoffed in response. "A likely story. At least try and think of something more creative and believable to say." His hands then went to Lucchini's crossed legs, his eyes darting to one of the men. "Hold down her shoulders." At this the man he ordered complied, pulling Lucchini down to the floor while at the same time Glazkov parted her legs. "Now then... time for a little taste of what's down here."

Lucchini bucked, trying to keep the man from looking at the most treasured place on her body. "No! No, don't look!" She was scared. She never knew that she could ever get this scared. The man's lips then enveloped Lucchini's snatch, a large burst of pleasure surged from her pussy and across every inch of her nervous system. Lucchini screamed, afraid of this sensation. She tried to kick at the man sucking on her but another set of hands from two other men came forward and held down her legs. She squirmed as much as she could but Glazkov didn't relinquish his hold of her. She could feel the horrible, slimy, evil intent radiating off this man; she wanted to escape him.

His tongue licked Lucchini's pussy repeatedly, each slimy, vile lick electing waves of unwanted pleasure through her body. Her mind was starting to strain painfully. Her voice kept crying out in bleats of fear, sobs of sorrow and involuntary moans of pleasure. Her body and her mind were in flux with each other, her heart churning with each and every emotion she could possibly feel, even a couple she never knew she was capable of. The man's mouth than went to a place between her legs that did something that made the deepest fear course through her soul: a small nub of her anatomy, a tiny, highly concentrated bundle of nerves exploded. Her clitoris was directly stimulated, her back arched as a sound was unleashed from her throat; the sound of a primal screech of terror mixed with a scream of pleasure, her body arched and then shuddered as an intense feeling enveloped her. Once the endless waves that racked her body were finished she started crying freely. She had never felt so humiliated and degraded. All she could silently ask was why?

She wondered if anyone would come and save her. Shirley was hurt badly by these horrible people, and mama? Mama was back home. The only other people who could save her were her other friends, maybe one of her fellow witches: Yoshika, Lynnette, Perrine or maybe one of the tame witches. She thought maybe even James and his friends might come save her, but she didn't know if anyone would come for her, or if they did wither they would find her. _I don't... I don't want strangers touching me like this... I... I don't like this. It hurts... I ... I don't want these people doing these perverted things to me. I want my friends. I wonder if... if James or the others will come for me? _Shirley's face appeared in her mind once more._ I... I want Shirley...Shirley... I...I..._

Glazkov hummed and eased up Lucchini's body to her face. "You tasted good, little slut. Perhaps you will make for a good means for my men and I to find... comfort, for a while." His middle finger nestled between her labia, a twinge of pleasure rocked through her nerves, a stifled whimper escaped her lips. "A pussy is a pussy after all, and my men are only human. They have their needs." he stated.

"W-w-why... why are you doing this to me?" She sobbed.

Glazkov ignored her question and proceeded to kiss her. She felt a little drained for a moment, but the thoughts of this man touching and kissing her and doing other perverted things to her again brought back all that rage. She bit down on his lip, a liquid iron taste of blood in her mouth once again. The man let loose a muffled curse and pulled back. Lucchini then kicked the men holding her legs loose and brought her feet into their heads, dazing them.

The man holding down her shoulders started to smack her around but Glazkov barked at him and the others. "Enough!" A scary, angry look crossed his face as he cast a glare in her direction. Lucchini tried to look defiant but what she had just gone through had rattled her, her body quivering fearfully and tears flowing down her face despite the hard look she tried to muster in her eyes. After touching his bitten lip, blood transferring to his finger and inspecting his superficial wound the frightening grin returned. Lucchini's lips trembled; she had come to fear that smile on his face. Her breath became caught in her lungs.

The man then did something that filled Lucchini with dread; as he approached her again he drew his pistol, then jabbed it into her temple. At this his men seemed to tense a little. The Warrant officer who first groped her spoke in nervous protest. "S-sir, you said we would have our turn with her!"

He spoke reassuringly to his subordinate, though his cold, cruel eyes never left Lucchini's own. "I'm not done. Don't worry though, I'll let you all have your turn with her."

"But sir, the last time we had a nice piece of tail back in the Urals and you brought your sidearm out we never did have a chance to do anything with the last girl!"

"I give you my assurances, Warrant Officer: I'll be sure there are no accidental discharges this time." he assured him.

The gun in Glazkov's grasp slowly eased its way from her temple, down her face and then placed firmly into her jugular. The pressure of cold steal could be felt by her carotid artery. _Gun... Gun... Gun! He's holding a gun to me. He's holding a gun to me! What do I do?! I don't know what to do!_ The young girls mind was now racing instead of just spinning like a top. But it was a race to nowhere. Even as much of a prodigy as she was, if she had her magic she had to really concentrate to try and use her shield to block a bullet like this. But seeing as she had no magic in reserve, nothing would stop the bullet if it were fired. _He's going to kill me! I don't want to die!_ Thoughts of her friends, both the girls of the 501st and of the men of Hunter-2-1. She didn't want to lose them. She didn't want to be lost to them. _I can't die... I can't die like this_! Her eyes still continued to spill tears as she shakily found her voice. "Please...please don't hurt me..." she pleaded.

Glazkov smirked. "What's the matter, your fiery spirit dampened? Not feeling so tough, little bitch?" He twisted the pistol around on the point of the small girls jugular, her face cringing in fear as the steel pressed into her. "Do you know what happens now?" Lucchini looked at the man with timid silence, giving no answer. Glazkov grinned toothily and scoffed. He squeezed the trigger. Lucchini flinched and cried out fearfully.

A click rang out.

The pistol was empty.

Glazkov looked to the pistol with a look of mock disappointment, as Lucchini started sobbing; her life just flashed before her eyes and she really thought she was going to die. She was being tortured by a cruel monster, who then spoke mockingly. "Oh, would you look at that; I'm out of rounds." His own men looked both irate and relived, though it was likely the relief was because they would still have the chance of doing terrible things to Lucchini after this... monster... was done with her. He ejected the empty pistol magazine and replaced it with a fresh one, the pistol making a frightening clacking sound as the slide was racked. "There we go, my tool is ready for you, little Ensign." Her eyes widened and locked onto the now loaded pistol. Her heart was beating at an insane tempo from inside her chest; adrenaline fueled fear that was now paralyzing her.

The young Russian man from before spoke. "Sir, that is too much, you cannot just use a loaded pistol on her! Besides, what if it goes off!?"

Glazkov's head snapped to the younger man. "She is my prisoner, and thus I will decided how she is to be handled." He raised his pistol at the man and spoke threateningly. "If you interfere or object to my command again it will be the last damn thing you'll ever do, am I clear?!" The young man tensed for a moment, then relented. A look of disgust filled his face as he moved further away from the gaggle. Glazkov turned to Lucchini and his voice then spoke firmly, his smile gone. "Don't. Move."

The pistol found its way back to her jugular, and then started to slowly ease its way down her body. Upon reaching her chest the pistol in Glazkov's grasp slowly circled her buds, first the left, then the right. Lucchini was racked with fear that reached levels she never thought she could feel. Not even fighting the Neuroi reached a level that was this scary for her. But then the pistol continued down her body, slowly, steadily. As this happened Glazkov spoke. "Did you know I used this very pistol on a lot of girls in my life? I put it to very good use, on many a pretty women and girl, even some as young as you, perhaps even younger. I call it "Cherry Popper"... it's a very fitting name if I do say so, given what I use it for." She didn't know what he was talking about at first, but then to her horror the pistol in question finally nestled itself between her legs. She was shaking violently in terror. It was at this point she believed she was in a nightmare.

The pistol's barrel rubbed around the lips of Lucchini's pussy. An ice cold shiver shot up and down her spine, but her pussy was once again getting stimulated. Her body was not reacting like she wanted it to, her special place, already moist from earlier intrusion upon the shores of her maidenhood, was getting wetter.

Glazkov chuckled. "Looks like your getting wetter. You must really be enjoying this, aren't you, ya lewd girl."

"N-n-n-n-no..." Lucchini stuttered out. Her voice cracked and tears were now flowing freely and uninhibited from her eyes and down her cheeks. _How could he possibly think that I like this?! He's a crazy monster!_ she wept silently.

His pistol slid between the folds of Lucchni's pussy, the top of the pistols slide rubbing against her most sensitive area, her body moved in a wave as an unnatural pleasure washed across her, her juice covering the small weapon. He spoke mockingly. "Oh I think you are. You're liking this, aren't you: you keep saying no, but you're body is telling us a different story." He then spoke softly to her. "You want my pistol inside you, don't you? Would you like to have a little fun with Cherry Popper?"

Lucchini gasped in horror as her mind suddenly stopped. It took a brief moment for her to take in the weight of what he had just said to her. His voice, his words echoed in her mind. He wanted to put a pistol... a loaded pistol... inside her?! It was then, what Glazkov and his warrant officer had said to each other. About how they mentioned that the last time something like this happened there was an "accidental discharge". About how he called his pistol: "Cherry Popper." The pieces were falling into place. The sound of the pistol's cocking from before snapped into her mind and her face turned a white as a sheet.

Her eyes locked themselves upon the pistol and where it was pointing at, not trying to make eye contact with the eyes of what had to be the embodiment of pure evil itself. She slowly shook her head."No... no... no..."

Glazkov pointed the pistol's barrel at Lucchini's pussy, moving it around as he prodded at her snatch and even her clitoris until he found the opening to her vagina. The barrel slowly prodded a bit, then turned it so the slide could keep massaging her. "Are you still a virgin, little harlot? You seem to act much like one, I've seen a few in the past act much like you do now. You're in luck: I'll make you into a woman."

Lucchini shook her head violently from side to side. "NO! DON'T PUT IT INSIDE ME! PLEASE DON'T! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DONT! STOP! STOP!" He tightened his grip on his pistol as he began to smile widely. The young Russian man's disgust only grew as he started to go into the hallway. The rest of the men watched in silence. The pistol barrel started to point at her vaginal opening, then the opening of the gun prodded her pussy. Ensign Francesca Lucchini gave one final horrific, pleading cry for her beloved friends. "SHIRLEY! JAMES! SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! HELP ME! HELP ME!"

* * *

><p><strong>And so ends Chapter 28... one of the most difficult chapters I have had to write as a fanfic author.<strong>

**I must confess that the scene involving Lucchini...was by far the most difficult scene I had to write. For reasons regarding narrative tone as well as research into the subject and trying to write such a scenario with the proper maturity that such a scene in literature demands. Such scenes are one of the greatest challenges that a writer must put to paper or word document, because of the fact it is a grim subject.**

**As another quick note as an author that I feel that I must say: is that the very nature and act of rape is something I find abhorrent. It harms and violates not only a person's body, but also their heart, mind and soul. It leaves deep scars and it's a vile crime that enrages me. But what really draws my ire is the few times I've seen such a subject portrayed in fiction that comes off as fetishized or makes light of the horrible, devastating effect this has on a person's well being. If there are further scenes in my story involving rape against the protagonist cast they will be treated with mature seriousness, solemn respect, and will NOT be portrayed in any way, shape or form in ways that are titillating, fetishistic or sexy. They will be shown as the horrible, depraved and deplorable, monstrous acts that they are. I feel I must set the record straight on this so that my intent as a writer is made clear. Those who have gone through rape are wounded, scarred and haunted by such trespasses, and that will be made clear when characters that have such events occur to them or have had such events in their back stories inflicted upon them appear in the story.**

**With that issue addressed, as always; I am forever grateful to my fans, readers and fellow writers and please be sure to leave a review or if you have questions about either my stories, the narrative elements, character growth and development or about writing in general I would be more then glad to hear from you. Let me know what elements of WR141 you like or don't like or find interesting and why these may be the case; I love to see what prompts a person's thoughts and feelings and why they are moved one way or another. **

**WR141 and other stories will be on the way. As always: stay frosty.**


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